One Truth, Countless Lies
by AWideWorldOfFanfics
Summary: She'll live a hundred lies before she can ever live the truth. She'll tell a thousand lies before the truth won't kill. A/N: I own only Eliza & Declan
1. Chapter 1

**May**

She had never seen so much bustle. She had never seen so many people, hurrying, rushing, and shoving by each other with so much carelessness. It made her body restless. It made her fingers twitch. At the same time, though, her mind raced with ideas. With wonder and amazement. Her mind spun with all the possibilities of what these strangers were doing, where they were going.

Her eyes scanned the crowd of the port. She could tell that in this part of the world, people did not use boats for travel very often. Thankfully, she got lucky and was able to board an American cruise at a port in France that was going exactly where she wanted to go: New York.

She knew one person in this foreign land, well, sort of. Hodge Starkweather was an old friend of her father, a friend she had met many years ago before she turned three. There wasn't much she remembered about her first years, not that those years mattered anymore.

Her eyes stopped on a boy. Not really a boy but not yet a man either. He resembled an angel. A halo of golden curls rested atop his head, slim and tall build, and an angular face. She couldn't quite make out the color of his eyes, but there was a hint of gold she could see. She could see the thin silver scars carved into the visible parts of his skin.

Eliza knew this boy. She knew his name, she knew his history. Jace Wayland. Her surrogate brother. She grabbed both of her suitcases and strolled over to him.

"I suppose you're my ticket to the Institute." She smiled at him. Once, her father said she had a trusting smile. She had originally taken it as a bad quality, but he assured her that a trusting smile was the ticket to getting whatever she wanted. Whatever he considered a good quality, she wasn't sure she wanted it.

The boy stared at her, a clear look of distrust and confusion on his face. "You can see me." He noted sharply. His eyes were, in fact, golden.

Eliza rolled up her shirt sleeve, showing off several similar silver scars. "Like I said, I suppose you're giving me a ride."

She could almost see the gears working in his mind. Taking in the unique look of her. White-blonde hair, forest green eyes, the silver scars, the charismatic smile, her icy composition in which she held herself.

"What's your name?" He asked, beginning to walk away from her.

For May, the air was brisk. Not very warm but not exactly cold either. The windy air bit at her face, whipping her hair around.

Lies. This was the part she did not think she would be excellent at. She couldn't lie well, not by her father's standards anyway. He just didn't know her well enough. "Eliza Starkweather. I'm Hodge's cousin. Well, his third cousin, twice removed." She said easily. "His cousin, Oskar Starkweather, married my mother, Seraphina Ravenscar."

Eliza looked down at her luggage. Was it not customary for men to take a woman's luggage? Apparently not as her companion was leaving her behind, as well as her luggage. She gripped her luggage and walked quickly behind him.

They arrived at an automobile. Old fashioned and black. Maybe early 1960's. "Twice implies a sibling before you." He told her.

She nodded. "That it does." She agreed. "I have- my apologies, I had an elder brother. His name was Jonathan. He died along with my parents two weeks ago.

His tawny eyes softened. "I…I-."

She waved her hand at him. "Don't apologize. You didn't know. Which means Hodge didn't tell you anything other than the fact that you'd be escorting me." Jace said that was right.

Once again, she looked at her luggage. Annoyed, she opened the backdoor and tossed her things inside. She slammed the door, walking around to the passenger side and climbing inside. The lie ran rampant in her mind.

"I don't have a family either." He told her. "If it makes you feel better."

She looked straight ahead. "It doesn't but thank you." She said.

* * *

The Institute of New York was built like an old cathedral. Beautiful glass windows full of color and tall spires. "Close your mouth. You'll swallow a bug." Jace Wayland's voice was light as a feather. He had a witty attitude and a smart mouth.

Her eyes wondered over to him. He was getting her bags from the backseat. She clamped her mouth shut promptly. "My apologies. I've never seen an Institute before. It's quite beautiful, don't you think?"

Jace snorted at her remark. She shot him a distasteful look, asking why he reacted in such a way. "When you look at something beautiful every day, it becomes ordinary. Unless it's me." His mouth spread into a large smile, a smile that didn't quite reach the eyes.

She shook her head. "Is he nice? Hodge? I've never met him, which is quite funny considering we're cousins." She asked. From what her father said, Hodge Starkweather was a follower, never a leader. He was weak-willed and too compliant. She was looking forward to that.

Jace shrugged. "Yeah, he's nice. Come on, I've got things to do."

She followed him inside the Institute. They were greeted at the door by an overweight blue-furred cat. The cat shrunk back at Eliza, hissing loudly. Jace's eyes glanced from the cat to the girl. "Church doesn't like anyone."

Eliza bent down on her knees and stretched out her hand towards the cat. "Don't hiss. It isn't nice." She chided the cat. "You and I are going to get along, Church. Aren't we?" There was a look in her eyes. Determination and something…darker. For a moment, it looked as if her eyes faded from green to black.

The cat seemed to relax at the sound of her voice. And then he purred, coddling into the curve of her hand. Eliza looked back at Jace, a look of triumph on her face. She stood back up to follow Jace to their destination.

* * *

The library of the Institute was vast. The bookshelves lined the walls, stretching up to the ceiling. Eliza had never seen so many books in her life. "Don't say it's beautiful. If you say it, I'll vomit." Jace warned her as they neared a desk towards the center of the enormous room.

The desk was made of dark polished wood. A globe sat on top of it, beside a few books and a rotary telephone. The top slab of the desk was held up by two dark wooden angels. The man behind the desk was incredibly thin with a beaklike nose and a large scar up the right side of his face.

"You must be Eliza." He stared at her with old eyes. Eyes that had seen so much despite being remotely young. "I am Hodge, your cousin and now your tutor. I offer my sincerest condolences for your parents and brother. I'll be your custodian until you turn eighteen, then you are free to do whatever you wish."

Free. Within months' time, she would be free. It wasn't that close. Eleven months. But close enough.

The day she turned eighteen, she would be gone. No one would ever see Eliza Morgenstern again.

* * *

She picked up a book, inspecting it as he watched her. "He grew up well, didn't he? My father's pet project." Hodge scoffed. "No wonder my father let him go. His mouth is unbelievably smart."

Hodge settled the papers on his desk, handing her one. There was a drawing of a cup on it. A glass chalice dipped in gold. Plain but extraordinary at the same time. "A copy of what the Mortal Cup looks like. Though I'm sure your father has shown you many photos." She nodded wordlessly. "As for Jace, he is an amazing Shadowhunter. One of the best, I believe. He does have a quick wit about him."

She stashed the drawing of the cup in the pocket of her jacket. No one could see it. "He's unusual. I've been here a few hours and he's wary of me. I can't work if he's on my tail the whole time." She stared down at the man pointedly. "Tell me how to get him off my back."

"Convince him. You are your father's daughter. In his hay day, Valentine was charismatic. He could get anyone to believe anything. He won't be hard to convince. Jace trusts people easily. It's his weakness. And he loves a pretty girl."

Eliza was beautiful. And she knew it. She knew that her long pale hair, startling green eyes and lithe figure could enchant people. She knew her dazzling smile could make anyone stray from the righteous path.

"Of course he does." She muttered. She found a clock, acquiring the time. It was terribly late. "I'm going to retire for the night. Goodnight."

She left the library without hearing another word from him. She had no idea where her bedroom was located. That meant she got to explore, to walk around alone. Something she had never gotten to do before.

After setting fire to their family home, her father had stolen away in the night with her and her brother, Jonathan. He kept them in a cottage just on the outskirts of Alicante, a cottage belonging to Marisol Hardtower. Marisol had been kind and gentle, a loyal follower of Valentine. A follower no one knew about. She only offered a place to hide from the Clave.

The cottage was small, barely big enough for the four of them. Marisol slept in her living room, giving Valentine the master bedroom. The other bedroom was set aside for Eliza and Jonathan. There was no privacy in the cottage. The basement served as a training facility. During the early hours of the morning, Valentine kept the basement for himself.

That was the truth.

The lie was something else, something much kinder to the heart and the ears that heard it.

The lie was that Eliza was not even a Morgenstern, but a Starkweather. Daughter to Oskar and Seraphina, younger sister to Jonathan. Her parents and brother had perished in a terrible fire two weeks prior, just after her seventeenth birthday. Her brother had been in from the Institute in London and had returned especially for her birthday.

She preferred the lie to the truth.

Eliza's eyes trailed the enormity of the Institute as she wandered. For the first time in…she could not recall the last time a genuine smile graced her face before that moment. There was a sense of freedom that came with being alone in the dark halls of the Institute.

She could hear music drifting through the halls. Soft and slow. Melancholy. She followed the melody to an empty room that housed only a piano.

Jace was sitting at the bench, bent over the keys. Moonlight streamed from the windows, illuminating his face. His eyes were closed, lost in the sound of his music.

"Who taught you to play?" Her voice cut through the music. She walked further into the room. Jace looked back at her, a look of pure annoyance on his face. So, he didn't like being interrupted. Or he didn't like her. She preferred the former option. She sat down on the bench beside him. "Or did you teach yourself?"

"My father taught me. He insisted I know how to play an instrument and I chose the piano." His tone was uncaring. He was telling her to make her leave, she understood this.

A thought prickled her brain: He had never forced her or Jonathan to learn an instrument. He had only ever hit them, whipped them with a metal tipped whip and told them they were monsters. For Jace to be such a failure in her father's eyes, Valentine had treated him awfully well.

She stood up. "You play wonderfully. You're very well taught." She wiped the skirt of her dress. "Anyways, I didn't mean to bother you. I was on my way to bed." She began walking away from the piano, mouth pursed. "Thank you, by the way. For escorting me back. It was very kind of you to sacrifice your day."

She waited for a few moments for a response. He never responded. She clasped her hands together and walked out of the room.

* * *

When she woke, she smelled burnt food. Very burnt food. She hurriedly got ready and found her way to the dining room. Hodge was seated at the table, hunched over a book. Jace was talking quietly with a dark-haired boy. The dark-haired boy was taller than Jace with a similar build and electric blue eyes.

Like she had set off some sort of alarm, all three of the men at the table looked at her at the same time. Hodge gave her a soft smile. For a moment, she saw the same look on the dark-haired boys' face.

"Bad news. I burnt all the food." A dark-haired girl entered the room, flour covering her apron and pancake batter splattered on her face. Her dark hair was a twist of braids and loose pieces. "Who are you?" She asked Eliza.

She could feel everyone staring at her, waiting for her to say the wrong thing. Everything she said would be the wrong thing. "Eliza Starkweather. Hodge's cousin."

The air seemed to stiffen, almost as if it was trying to suffocate her. No one said anything for what felt like hours. "Can you cook?" The girl asked her.

Eliza was taken aback. She hadn't expected the girl to react in that manner. "Uh. Yes. I cook very well." It wasn't a lie. She had cooked all the time back home. Marisol had taught her.

"Good. You're salvaging breakfast then. Come on." The girl disappeared back into the kitchen, the door swinging behind her.

Eliza looked back at Hodge, asking silently for help. He gave her a nod of encouragement. Jace gave her a disdainful look but said nothing. Maybe he truly didn't like her. No, he didn't trust her.

She walked quietly to the kitchen. The girl was throwing away plates of darkened foods that looked suspiciously like bacon, sausage and pancakes. "I'm Izzy, by the way. Isabelle Lightwood."

Lightwood. An old Shadowhunter name. The Circle had contained two members that bore that name. Eliza kept her mouth shut about that. This girl was the only person being semi-nice to her and she didn't want to upset her.

"That goon in the dining room is my older brother, Alec. Sorry if he weirds you out. He isn't as outspoken as Jace or myself." Izzy handed her a bowl filled with yellowish batter along with a wooden spoon.

Eliza carefully dolloped batter onto the griddle. "I don't mind. People don't usually say much around me anyways." Eliza admitted quietly.

Izzy dropped pieces of bacon and sausage on the griddle away from the cooking pancakes. "Why not? You're attractive. People speak to me all the time. Well, when they can see me."

Isabelle Lightwood was incredibly blunt, Eliza was learning. She liked that. She preferred it when people didn't beat around the bush.

"My family is-was a bit odd. Very reserved and quiet. My parents liked to keep to themselves in Alicante. Most find it unnerving. My brother and I…we weren't like them. We wanted to be out in the world, doing and seeing everything. But my parents refused. There had been talk when I was younger that my parents wanted to exile themselves from the Shadow World, but they didn't want to tarnish the Starkweather name." Izzy asked her what Idris was like. "It's lovely. I didn't get to see much of it, only pieces of the city. But the sky always seemed bluer, the grass greener." She said wistfully.

Izzy nodded, watching the food sizzle on the griddle. "I'm sorry. About your family. It must suck so bad to lose everything so quickly." Her voice was soft. She was being completely sincere. Honest. Things that Eliza was not allowed to be.

No one had ever apologized to her. Given her condolences for her family, real or fake. No one had ever felt remotely sorry for her. No one felt the need to. Her father had caused so much pain and hurt, so much misery and agony that everyone felt she was the one who had to apologize, give condolences.

"I live with it. It isn't terribly awful. Some people have it much worse. Some have families that don't want them. I believe that's worse." Eliza flipped the pancakes over.

It wasn't the complete truth. Nothing that came from her mouth anymore was the complete truth. There was always a lie mixed in somewhere. She hated being an outcast, not knowing anyone, never having someone to confide in. She could tell no one about how her father seemed to favor her sadistic twin brother or even that her father was alive.

"How _kind_ of you to be so considerate of the less fortunate." The new voice in their conversation was sharp and hateful. Jace was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. His lips were pursed, eyes narrowed. "Isabelle, you really shouldn't let her do the cooking. She could poison us all." He wasn't joking.

What on earth made him so cruel?

Izzy scoffed at his remark. "Don't be dumb, Jace. She's nice. I like her."

Eliza almost dropped the spatula on the griddle. This girl didn't know her. She knew nothing about her at all, only her name, but was taking up for her against someone she had known most of her life. If only Izzy knew the truth.

Jace's eyes fleeted between the two girls. "Don't be naïve, Isabelle." He spun on his heel, walking out of the room.

Eliza trained her eyes on the food, refusing to look the other girl in the eye.

* * *

She found the training room easily enough. Church led the way to the attic, turning every once in a while to make sure she was still following.

Jace was alone in the room, inspecting a table of seraph blades. "Go away. You aren't wanted here." She hadn't made any noise at all. His senses were keen, too keen.

"No." She insisted. He looked up at her, his eyes a molten gold. "I know you don't trust me. I wouldn't trust me either." He snorted, a dark noise coming from him. "But I'm going to be staying here for the next eleven months, so we're going to be seeing each other a lot."

He picked up a seraph blade, holding it up in the light. "Seeing and speaking are two different concepts. You didn't learn a lot, did you?"

She put her hands on the table, leaning towards him. "Give me a chance to prove myself to you. I know that you and the Lightwoods are going hunting tonight. Take me with you."

He let out a boisterous laugh. Loud and sarcastic. "No way in hell. You would get us killed. You're untrained. I know that the Shadowhunter Academy is closed. And from what you said to Izzy, I'm sure your parents didn't train you. You probably don't even know how to hold a seraph blade."

She grabbed one from the table and steadied it in her hand. She moved her arm a little bit. "I'm going with you. I'm required by the law to protect all other Shadowhunters." Again, he said no. He didn't trust her. She put the seraph blade down. "Listen, I know what you think-."

He slammed his fist down on the tabletop, eyes boring into her own. His jaw was clenched tight. "Let me tell you what I see. I see a girl who is unusually nice for a Shadowhunter. I see a girl who is soft-spoken and small. I see a girl who is untrained and isn't fit to go on a demon hunt. I see someone I don't trust because I have no reason to trust her."

His words were cruel, harsh and biting. Unkind and burning. So many emotions ran through her body, she couldn't pick one to portray in her words. There was anger, hurt, and sadness.

"I have no reason to betray anyone. I have something to prove to everyone. I must show everyone that I'm not like my parents. That I _want_ to be a Shadowhunter. That I deserve to be one. I need chances to prove myself. Give me one. Tonight. Let me show you that I'm one of you."

His face softened slightly. His eyes searched her face, looking for signs of betrayal. "We're leaving at ten. Be ready."

She could have screamed in delight.

* * *

She tightened the straps on her thighs. Holsters to keep weapons. She surveyed the weapons spread out on her bed. She grabbed two seraph blades, whispering ancient names into the blades and then stuffing them into the holster of her left thigh. She picked up the short-sword, eyes scouring the item.

The hilt had three dazzling rubies, on the blade was a shimmering falling star. _Eosphoros_. Made especially for her. Her father had the broadsword, _Phaesphoros_. _Heosphoros_ , the original short-sword, was lost. It had been meant for Jonathan.

Morgenstern family weapons.

Phaesphoros and Heosphoros had been pre-made, one for the father and one for the son. No one had expected the daughter. Her father rushed to have the second short-sword made after the birth of his twin children and presented the sword to her on her tenth birthday. She had just sat and stared, eyes glued to the rubies. Jonathan received a sword, not his Morgenstern heirloom, but one just as good. Valentine had promised to find his rightful weapon and bestow it upon him. Something that had still yet to occur.

"Are you coming?"

Alec Lightwood was standing in the doorframe of her bedroom. His dark hair fell over his ears, his piercing blue eyes watched her carefully.

She nodded, shoving the blade into the sheath on her back. She grabbed two of throwing knives and latched them into the sheath bands on her wrist. "Yes. I'm ready." She was overly conscious of the way her hands were shaking.

And he was noting it as well. "Don't be nervous." He assured her. "We have to protect you. Jace is stupid, but he isn't that stupid."

She scoffed, the noise wavering in her throat. "I'm not. Well, not for the reason you think." She mumbled. Her hair was in two thick knotted braids, resting on her shoulders. She pushed both the braids off her shoulders. "I've just…I've got a lot to prove and I don't need him stuck up my ass while I try and do it."

Alec reached towards her, hesitating when she flinched. But nonetheless, he put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I believe in you." He said quietly. "Alright? Let's go. You've got something to prove, right?"

* * *

The club was called Pandemonium. She didn't enjoy the irony in that.

"You can still dip out. If you're scared." Jace told her, his voice smooth with snark.

She shook her head once. Her hand went to her hip, double-checking that she still had her seraph blade.

Jace extended his arm out towards the club, his expression hard. "After you, then."

Eliza glanced at Alec. He gave a quick nod, reassuring and trustworthy, all in one split second. She squared her shoulders and walked past her three companions, straight into the club.

The good thing about being a part of the Shadow World was being a shadow. Shadowhunters got to come and go at their own disposition. For the four of them at Pandemonium, that meant no waiting in the pesky line to get inside.

Lights flashed as soon as she stepped inside. Purples, greens, blues, reds. Blinding and bright. A haze of smoke covered the room, thin wisps circling around her. Her hand fell from the top of her seraph blade as she stared in awe.

This was life. This was living.

Bodies grinding against each other, partly in sync with the blaring music. Drinks sloshing from cups. Lights flashing.

"We're looking for an Eluthied demon. Do you know what that is?" Jace was beside her, tone mocking and hurtful.

He had full reason to mock her hunting skills. She had no experience. Not real experience anyways. But her knowledge? He had no right to mock her intelligence. She knew as much, probably even more, as he did.

"It's a type of Eidolon. It can change forms. So…so we're going to have a very hard time finding our target in here."

Jace huffed in response. "Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut, got it? We get in, we kill, we get out."

She frowned, looking over at him. He asked what her problem was. "You skipped a step." She told him. He raised his eyebrows in question. "Finding the demon."

Behind them, Izzy stifled a laugh and Alec let out a snicker. Jace's face remained passive, but his golden eyes darkened.

"Jace, let's go survey." Alec suggested, trying to pry Jace away before he said something he regretted.

Jace gave Eliza a cold look before disappearing into the crowd with Alec. Izzy smiled at her and grabbed her by the arm.

"I don't know how the hell we're gonna find this thing in here. It's dark and I can't see a damn thing." Izzy groaned. "I know Jace is trying to give you a hard time, but damn."

Was he trying to get her killed? It sure felt like it. She shook the feeling away and rolled her shoulders. What to do….?

Interrogate. That's what her father would tell her. That's what Jonathan would do. So, it was exactly what she wouldn't do.

She slid past a boy with bright pink hair and climbed on top of a table.

"What are you doing?" Izzy asked her loudly over the music.

Eliza looked around, utilizing her improved view of the room. She glanced back down at Izzy. "Looking for the target."

It took Izzy a moment to realize what was going on. "Brilliant." She heard Izzy said. Her partner climbed up on her own table.

Eliza's eyes scanned the room. A few feet away, she spotted Jace and Alec, faces hard as they looked around the room at ground level. She let herself smirk in pride at her idea.

Her skin prickled. Someone was watching her.

She turned. On the table behind her, Izzy was beginning to dance, her arms in the air, hips swaying.

Standing near Izzy's table was the pink haired boy. His gaze shifted from Eliza to Izzy and back. A sour taste filled her mouth.

Demon. More specifically, her demon.

She mimicked Izzy's moves, her hips easily swaying to the rhythm of the music. She watched Izzy jump down from her table, never looking at the demon. Izzy disappeared into the crowd.

Eliza swallowed. Her skin was hot, covered in a thin film of perspiration. Her braids swung as she moved. She still felt his deadly gaze on her.

Hands were on her hips, making her jump. "Stay calm." Jace's voice was rough in her ear. "It's locked on you." His lips grazed her ear as he spoke.

She nodded, noticing the way his body moved in sync with hers perfectly. "Do you trust me?" She asked quietly.

"Not in the slightest." He admitted.

She turned to face him. "I've got this." She didn't know if she was assuring him or herself. He opened his mouth to protest but shut it almost immediately. "You can follow me. If it makes you feel better. But I have to do this on my own." She told him.

His hands fell from her hips. She climbed down from the table. She glanced over her shoulder, making sure the demon was still following her. He was, his eyes slanted, dangerously interested in her movements.

She let herself smirk at him before she turned back around. Carefully, her eyes scoured the room, looking for a place that was secluded and hidden away from the crowd. Across the room, she spied a door that no one was paying attention to. A storage room, maybe. Or a back exit. Either would do. It said, 'No Admittance' on the door. Perfect, she told herself.

She pushed her braids over her shoulders and kept walking. She walked past Alec and headed straight for the door. She barely opened it, slipping through the crack.

Her heart was pounding, her face hot. Her first hunt. Her first, hopefully, kill.

She heard the door shut, turning herself around. The Eluthied demon was staring at her, his eyes a dark black. "You aren't very good at this, Shadowhunter."

Her heart felt like it stopped. He knew. How did he know?

His chuckle chilled her. "No normal person looks the way you do. And…neither does any normal Shadowhunter. I was told to keep an eye out for you, Morgenstern."

He knew her. He knew her name. Not good. Very not good. "It would be in your best interest if you didn't address me that way, demon." She tried to keep herself composed. She tried to channel her father the best he could, as much as she hated to.

He raised his eyebrows. "Your friends aren't going to come save you, girl. You're on your own. They're going to let you die in here."

She wouldn't put it past Jace. Not in the least. It was no matter. If she died, she wasn't going down alone. She unsheathed her short sword.

At the sight of it, the demon backed away. "What…what is that?" He hissed. "Put it away!"

She glanced down at her sword before looking back up at her. She lunged at him, sword out. It sliced against his shoulder, ichor spurting out and landing on her bare wrist. She bit her tongue at the burning pain.

The demon screamed out in pain. "You little bitch!" He shouted at her. He jumped at her, knocking her to the ground. Her head smacked against the concrete floor. His hands were tight around her throat. "How to kill you? Eat you or just get it over with?" He hissed.

She heard the door slam open. "Jace, do something!" She heard Izzy scream. "He's gonna kill her!"

The demon grinned, his glamour beginning to slip. His eyes were clustered all around his face, his tusks an ugly grey color.

She wriggled underneath him, managing to grab her seraph blade. "See you in Hell." She whispered, shoving the seraph blade into his stomach. The demon began to fold in on himself, turning into dust on her stomach. She stood, putting her seraph blade back in the holster.

She looked down at her wrist, the flesh burned from the demon's blood. "That was cool as shit." Izzy breathed.

"She almost died, Iz." Alec reminded her.

Eliza looked up at them. Her gaze fell on Jace. "Satisfied?" She asked darkly. She wiped the remaining dust from her clothes.

He walked over to her and grabbed her forearm, inspecting her burn. He produced his stele and held the tip against her skin.

"No. Let it heal on its own." She jerked her arm away. "Battle scars are cool, right?" She half-smiled.

Jace grimaced at her. "Whatever you want to believe." He looked back at Alec and Izzy. "Let's get out of here. Job's done."

* * *

Her fingers gingerly touched the burn wound. She winced at the contact. The skin from her knuckles to her wrist was covered in festering burns.

In all honesty, she probably should have accepted Jace's help. But that was three days ago and she wasn't going to ask for it after three days. Even if she couldn't really move her hand. Something good had come from it though. She had relied too much on her right hand beforehand. Now, she could almost use her left hand just as well.

She was practicing with it then, throwing knives at a dummy. Every so often, her fingers still slipped, releasing a knife a little too fast. Like right then, for instance. The knife barely made it to the dummy, partially sticking in the chest, nowhere near the target.

"You do better with your right hand, you know."

She turned, pulling her sleeve down over the burn marks. "I know." She told Jace. "But it helps to be able to use both hands."

He rolled his eyes and walked towards her. He cautiously rolled up the sleeve of her shirt. The pads of his fingers barely touched the wound, but she still winced at the contact. "Should have let me fix it when I offered." He muttered.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You knew this would happen?" She asked.

He nodded once. "I'm not stupid. Do you want me to heal you? It'll probably take an hour or so to fully heal since you waited so long."

She pulled her arm away and covered the burns up again. "No." She said, voice determined. "I don't need your help."

He held his hands up in the air. "Don't say I didn't try."

She rolled her eyes and left the room. The walk back to her room was short. She shut the door, locking it. She walked to her bed and lifted the mattress, making sure her short sword was still there. The last thing she needed was Jace finding out she had a family sword.

Her hand burned with pain. She flexed her fingers, finding that was about the only movement she could perform without biting her lip in pain. "Heal, damn it." She muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

She made it through most of her morning routine without noticing. She didn't notice when she first woke up and it didn't hurt to push herself out of the bed. She didn't notice when she brushed her teeth and there was no stifling pain. She didn't notice as she washed her hair and tried to be extra cautious as her hands ran through her hair.

She finally noticed as she was brushing her hair. It didn't hurt as her hand bent with the brush. Curious, she put the brush down and looked down at her hand.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No burns, no yellow-green festered blisters. No mark at all to signal that she had been burned by ichor.

"What the hell?" She whispered. She flexed her hand, looking at it from every angle. It was gone, completely gone. Like it had never been there.

For a few more minutes, she sat in disbelief. There was no way…

She finished brushing her hair, deciding to pull it back in one braid. She told Izzy she'd make breakfast so she figured she'd might as well start on that. Everyone tended to wake up around eight thirty or so and it was just a little past eight.

She made her way down to the kitchen. Omelets sounded good. Good and easy to make. She grabbed an apron from the rack and tied it around her waist. She pulled out all the necessary ingredients and a pan from the cabinet and got to work.

It didn't take long for her to notice someone was watching her.

His gaze seared into her, golden eyes hard with contempt. Her back was turned to him, her hands busy chopping peppers.

"Try to cut off a finger while you're at it." He commented, voice cold.

She slid the peppers into the bowl, not responding. She wiped the knife off and started to chop onions. When she was finished, she put the onions in the bowl with the peppers.

"I found something in your room." He told her.

Those six words caused her to drop the knife. The metal clanged against the tile floor, ringing in her ears. Slowly, she turned around, wiping her hands on the apron.

"You went snooping in my room." She said, honestly not surprised. "Tell me what you found that has so obviously piqued your interest."

He pulled something from his back pocket. A short-sword with three rubies on the hilt. "What's this for, anyways?"

She wrung her hands together. "It's a family heirloom. It's part of a set. My father had the longsword and my brother the other short-sword. Originally, mine didn't exist but my father couldn't imagine me not having my own family sword. So, he had it made for me."

Jace examined it, eyes surveying deeply. "It looks dangerous. You shouldn't sleep with swords under your mattress. Unless you're planning on killing us all with it."

Eliza snatched the sword from his hands and glared back at him. "Nice try. But you know, that isn't a half-bad idea. Stay out of my room." She hissed. She shoved past him and started to walk out of the kitchen. She stopped at the doorframe and turned back. "I just…I don't understand, Jace." He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to go on. "Why don't you like me?"

She waited for an answer for what seemed like an eternity before walking away, leaving the omelets to burn on the stove.

* * *

She walked into Hodge's office, slamming the door. "I need him gone." She told her follower. "He is up my ass. I can't get anything done."

Hodge's eyebrows went up. "You know how your father feels about him. He must stay."

She was conscious about the way her nose almost crinkled at the mention of her father. She knew he liked Jace. Well, enough to keep him alive. The thought made her stomach feel unsettled.

"Find a way to keep him busy then." She told him. "He doesn't trust me, and he doesn't even know my real name."

Hodge smiled knowingly at her. She asked what he was smiling about. "You know what you need to do. Make him trust you. Break him down."

Her body chilled. She had already strayed from her path enough. She knew she was betraying her father. But betraying Jace…? She didn't particularly like him but breaking him was a whole other thing. She wasn't like her father. She wasn't Jonathan.

"Do you want to succeed?" Hodge asked quietly.

"Yes." She said, half truthful. She wanted to succeed, in bringing her father down. And she was going to find the Mortal Cup. But she wasn't going to give it to him. She'd turn it over to the Clave, where it would be safe. Whatever happened to her after that, she didn't care.

"You know what you must do, then."

She worried her lip between her teeth, looking at the ground. Making him trust her was going to be hard enough. She didn't want to think about how much effort it would take to make him want her.

* * *

 **June**

Eliza knocked on the door to his bedroom, fiddling with the sleeve of her jacket. The door opened slowly. Jace had an extremely pissed off look on his face. "God, what to do you want?" He groaned.

She made sure her eyes stayed trained on his face; not daring to let them wander to his bare torso. "Come on. We're going out." She told him firmly.

He glared back at her. "Yeah. I'm not going anywhere with you." He went to shut the door, but she stuck her foot out, holding it open. "Seriously?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, removing her foot. "Put on a shirt, Wayland. And grab a jacket. It's chilly out."

Ten minutes later, they were walking out of the Institute; Eliza nervously and Jace reluctantly. "Where are we going? Do you even have weapons?" He questioned.

She opened the fold of her jacket, revealing a stash of throwing knives and two seraph blades. "Do you trust me? Even a little bit?" She asked him. He said no quickly. She rolled her eyes. She turned the corner, Jace following behind her.

They walked for a little while longer before she stopped. Jace nearly ran into her back. They both looked at the building in front of them. A cafe called Taki's. Hodge had suggested it. He said Jace liked it there.

Jace stared at her, an amused expression on his face. "Why are we here?" He asked her.

"Breakfast?" She smiled. "I've been here for a month and you still hate me. I'm changing that today." She walked inside, him trailing behind. She picked a booth by the front window and they sat down. "So, while we're here, you can ask me anything you want and I'll answer truthfully."

Their waitress arrived. She was tall, with slim build, starch white hair that had a slight green tint, milky colored skin that almost seemed translucent and completely blue eyes. "Jace!" The waitress grinned. "Didn't think I'd see you again." The girl looked at Eliza. "And who are you?" Her blue eyes glowered, searching her features. Unmistakable pale hair and evergreen eyes.

"Eliza Starkweather."

It seemed as if the air in the café had been sucked out with a vacuum. She waited for someone to object her lie, but no one did.

The waitress's eyes flickered darkly. "What are you getting?" She asked Jace. He told her he wanted an order of hashbrowns and two BLT sandwiches. The waitress looked at Eliza with eyes of contempt. Quietly, Eliza said she would have a BLT sandwich, even though she had no clue what that was. The waitress left with a roll of her eyes and a flip of her hair.

"She doesn't like other girls." Jace told her in a surprisingly kind voice.

She bit her lip, looking down at the table. "So, what is a BLT? Did I just order something that will make me vomit?" She asked.

She swore he cracked a smile at her. Just the corner of his mouth turning up at her question. "It's a sandwich. Bacon, lettuce, tomato. Simple." He told her. She nodded in response. "You know, I've been trying to figure out how you were the only person who survived a fire that killed your entire family. So, tell me." He said, arms crossed over his chest.

She swallowed. Lies. So full of lies. "It was just two weeks after my seventeenth birthday. My brother had been at the London Institute, but he came in for my birthday. I was out of the house when it happened. My tutor, his name was Westley Hightower. He was taking me round to the demon towers around Alicante. When we returned to my home, it was ruined. The fire had burned out, leaving only charred remains and ash." She stopped just as their waitress was bringing out their food. She gave Eliza a dirty look as she walked away. "I stayed with Westley inside the city until the Clave finished sorting through the remains. They said that my mother must have accidentally left the stove on and gas leaked through the house. So, they sent me here, to Hodge. He's the last family I have left."

Jace spritzed ketchup over his fries and tossed a few in his mouth. He chewed, took a drink of water and then began talking. "Why was your brother in London?" He asked her.

She inspected her sandwich, debating how best to eat it. She looked over at him discreetly. "Our parents weren't quite right. They didn't want to remain Shadowhunters but didn't have the guts to ruin the Starkweather name. They kept to themselves and no one asked them to do anything. No one wanted to. My brother was different. Jonathan had this bright life inside of him, he lived to be a Shadowhunter. He went away to London to train with Arthur Blackthorn. John's four years older than me. He left as soon as he turned eighteen and became an active Shadowhunter. He came back every year for my birthday and Christmas." She told him. "I'm more like him than my parents cared to admit. John and I shared a love of the world that my parents hated. Especially my mother."

Her mother. Her real mother flashed in her mind. A woman she didn't quite remember. Every so often, she saw a flash of red hair, a memory of green eyes. Bits and pieces of what her mother looked like. And that was it. All she had were vague memories.

She picked up her sandwich and began to eat, ever conscious of the watching eyes in the diner. Their waitress came back, a pissed expression on her face. "You need to leave." She told Eliza. "The customers aren't comfortable with your presence."

Eliza stared back at her. "You're serious?"

The girl nodded. "I'm fey. I don't lie. Now, get out of this café before someone puts a dagger through your disgusting little eyes."

For the first time, Eliza looked around the restaurant. Every customer was a Downworlder. Werewolves, warlocks, the works. She dropped her sandwich. They all had malicious expressions patched onto their faces. She felt like she was suffocating under their glares. Surely, they didn't know who she was…

She launched out of her seat and dashed from the café, bursting out the door. And straight into someone else. She stumbled backwards, looking at the person she had just crashed in to. He was young, only a little bit older than her with dark black spiked hair, curved cat-like eyes with vertical slits. He wore silver glitter eyeshadow.

He looked down at her with an amused expression. "I'm sorry, little dove. I didn't see you running there."

Warlock. Warlock. She sucked in a shaky breath. "My apologies. I, uh, I'm sorry." She murmured.

He chuckled lightly. "Don't worry, Miss Morgenstern. I don't bite. I'm a warlock, not a vampire." He looked down at her, then through the window of the café and back down at her. She felt as if she couldn't breathe. How did he know her? "Ah, yes. People can be very cruel without saying a word. You mustn't let people tear you down, little dove. You're named after a star. Don't burn out like your father did."

Softly, he touched her cheek and glided past her. She felt like vomiting and crying all at the same time.

"Hey, are you okay?" Jace walked out of the café, shrugging his jacket on. "I got Kaelie to settle those Downworlders, so you can come back in if you want." He told her. She shook her head, hugging her arms around her body. "Right. I figured as much so I got you a doggy bag."

She turned to face him, confusion written on her face. She glanced down at the brown bag in his hand. "There isn't really a dog in there, is there?" She asked.

Another smile. Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

* * *

Jace strode into her room, hunting gear on, a seraph blade in his hand. "We're going on a hunt. Do you want to go?" He asked her, leaning against her doorframe.

She looked at him through her mirror. "You want me to go?" She asked, turning around.

He stashed his blade and folded his arms over his chest. "Offer's up in two minutes. Take it or leave it."

He was asking her to go. She was getting somewhere. Not far, but somewhere. "Give me twenty minutes." She told him. "To change and get weapons."

He said no. "We leave now. You can catch up. We'll be at Pandemonium. We heard sightings of Raum demon."

Always Pandemonium. Something about the club drew demons in. "You can't spare twenty minutes?" She asked him. His answer was a curt no. She set her mouth in a thin line. "I'll be there."

He turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing down the hall. It took her eighteen minutes to braid her hair, change clothes, bless two seraph blades and get together throwing knives and her short sword.

Unsurprisingly, Jace and Alec and Izzy had already left. She sighed before stepping out of the Institute. She was pretty sure she remembered the way to the club. It couldn't be that hard to find. There weren't many clubs like that in Manhattan.

A couple wrongs turns later and she deemed herself lost. Lost and in a pretty rough part of the city. Rough enough that she had chills on her arms and the hairs on the back of her neck were standing.

She kept her hands close to her blades as she turned in the dead-end alley and started back the other way.

It didn't take very long for her to realize she was being followed. She barely glanced back one time, just to see. Two men, tall and burly, but quiet.

"Shadowhunter, stop."

Shit. How did they know? She turned around to look at them. "Excuse me?"

The two men came closer to her. They looked slightly ragged, like they hadn't slept in days, but wore clean clothes. The taller of the two had squared shoulders, messy brown hair and glasses.

"I don't…it can't…" He murmured. "You're supposed to be dead."

She swallowed. "I believe you've mistaken me for someone else." Her hands were shaking, but her voice was even. "I've gotten myself lost. I'm new to the city and I'm meeting some friends at this club called Pandemonium. If you could just tell me how to get there…"

The man in glasses took a step towards her. "What's your name?" He asked her. He looked her up and down.

She couldn't tell him. Not her real name, anyways. "Eliza Starkweather. I really have to go."

His eyes narrowed and he ripped the hood from her head. He stumbled backwards, gasping. "Your real name. Tell me your real name." He whispered.

She took a step back. "That's my real name. I must go. My friends are expecting me."

As she took another step back, he grabbed her arm. "Tell me your name!" He shouted at her.

"What is all the commotion over here?" Someone's voice boomed from behind her.

The man dropped her arm, taking a step away. Eliza looked at her potential savior. It couldn't be…The warlock from the diner. His eyes sparked as he caught her gaze.

"Hello, little dove." He smiled. He looked at the two men. "Werewolves." He stated. "This girl is under the protection of the High Warlock of Brooklyn. My protection. Now, carry on before I get upset."

The men lingered for a few moments before turning the other way and leaving. Eliza looked at the warlock. "Thank you." She whispered, looking to the ground.

He lifted her chin so she could look at him. "Are you alright, little dove? You look frightened."

She nodded, letting her chin move from his hand. "Those were werewolves?" He said yes. "Would they have hurt me? If you hadn't have come along, I mean."

He shrugged. "Possibly. There are many rogue wolves in the city. But Luke Garroway is a good man and his pack is loyal. And Downworlders will always be cautious when they see you. They may not know your real name, but the uneasy feeling in their stomachs is quite enough for them."

A sour taste filled her mouth. Downworlders. The city was full of them. And all of them hated her. Possibly even the one in front of her.

"Don't worry, little dove. I don't hold a grudge against you. I'm quite fond of you. Now, tell me where you're going and I'll escort you." She murmured that she was trying to find Pandemonium. "Come along. I'll get you there."

He took her hand and put it through his arm, escorting her down the street.

"Why are you so nice to me? This is the second time we've met." She asked. Not that she didn't appreciate his kindness, but she also found it odd. "Also, I don't even know your name."

He smiled down at her. "Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn. It's a pleasure knowing you, Eliza Morgenstern. Or should I call you Eliza Starkweather?" He teased.

Uneasily, she smiled in return. Soon enough, he was walking her to the door of Pandemonium. "Thank you, for walking me. And for being so kind." She said. "And here, it's Starkweather. I don't want anyone knowing who I am, please."

He nodded. "I'm kind because you deserve it. And because I know a good person when I meet one. And you, little dove, are a good person. Even if you yourself don't believe it." He said softly. "Now, go do what you Shadowhunters do best. And if you ever need me," his finger grazed against her temple, pausing for a moment, "you know where to find me."

She blinked and he was gone. She double checked to make sure all her weapons were still on her before entering the club. It took her no time to find Jace, his eyes surveying the club with a determination only he held.

"Glad to see you finally made it." Jace muttered. "Took you more than long enough. Didn't think you were gonna show."

Her gaze slid over to him, taking in the hard determination of his gold eyes, his rigid stance. "I got a bit turned around. My apologies. Where are Izzy and Alec?"

He shrugged in response. "Izzy's probably doing the job you were supposed to: bait. And Alec…Alec is being Alec and wandering around."

She didn't say anything, looking around the room. "What makes you think the Raum demon is in here?"

Jace looked over at her, his eyes twinkling under the flashing lights. "It's dark, they don't have to use as much glamour. They like to hunt in large crowds. And they particularly like pretty girls. It's why I asked you to come. I knew you'd be good bait."

She didn't know whether to be offended or flattered. Since it was Jace, probably offended. Her eyes strained to see better in the dark room.

"Shit!" She heard him hiss. When she turned, he was gone. She spotted him running through the crowd towards the back room. She saw Izzy, wearing a beautiful red dress, dark hair spilling over her shoulder. She saw Jace, darting through people. And then she saw the Raum demon. Massive and ugly, with scaly white skin and a circled mouth, huge eyes. Stalking his prey, stalking Izzy.

Eliza took out her short sword and darted through the crowd, following Jace's lead. She grabbed Alec as she passed him, dragging him with her. She slammed into the back room, just in time to see the demon slam Jace against the wall, Izzy on the ground.

Alec rushed to his sister's side, making sure she was okay. The demon was holding Jace against the wall, ready to attack.

"Hey, ugly." Eliza drew attention to herself. The demon looked over at her, making an unintelligible noise. She loosened her grip on her sword and launched it at the demon. It landed in its leg. The Raum screeched as it fell back on the floor, ichor spurting from the wound. She ran over, jerked out the sword and tossing it aside. She took out her seraph blade and shoved it through the demon's mouth.

As the demon died, she stood and went to Jace. "Are you okay?" She asked. He had a cut on his cheek from the demon's teeth. Gingerly, she touched the cut. He barely winced.

"I'll be fine." He told her, pushing her hand away. "You did good."

She smiled grimly. She looked back at Alec and Izzy. Izzy was sitting up, holding her head. "Thanks." Izzy said quietly.

This time, Eliza actually smiled. "You'd do the same for me, right?"

Izzy nodded, half smiling. Jace bent down and picked up Eliza's weapons, handing them to her. "I had it, you know." He told her as Alec helped Izzy to her feet. "I could have done it without you."

She smirked at him, stashing her blades. "Sure, Wayland. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

* * *

The clock said it was almost midnight. She was tired, physically exhausted. But her brain was wired. She tossed the blankets off her body and got up from the bed. She quietly opened her bedroom door and stepped out into the hall.

Soft music flowed through the halls. She'd recognize it anywhere. Jace. So, he couldn't sleep either. She made her way to the piano room, walking in quietly.

He was hunched over the keys, eyes closed. His fingers danced gracefully over the keys, hitting every note with a precise beauty only he could perform.

"Can't sleep?" She called out quietly. She didn't want to startle him.

He stopped playing, his fingers resting. He looked up at her. "It's early for me. You?"

She pointed to her head. "Brain won't turn off."

Jace stood up from the piano bench and stretched. "I want to show you something." He said.

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. She let him lead her from the piano room and down the winding halls. He led her to the spiral stairs and up them.

She knew the greenhouse rested at the top of the stairs, but she'd never seen it.

It was beautiful. More so than she could have imagined. Full of all sorts of plants. She recognized some from her books, plants that had medicinal purposes and some that she knew could only be found in Idris.

"You can gape at this. It never gets old." Jace said, his voice lighter than she had ever heard it.

She walked around the room, her fingers grazing against several of the plants. "This is wonderful." She whispered.

He smiled, a real smile. One he meant. "Follow me." He told her. He led her to the back of the greenhouse, where a few of the same plants were nestled. He pulled the curtains back from the windows, letting in the moonlight.

The flowers bloomed in the moonlight. White flowers with yellow veins. "Morning glories." She murmured. "Moonflowers." She looked back at him, her green eyes bright. "They're beautiful."

Jace plucked one from the bunch, twirling it between his nimble fingers. Slowly, he tucked the flower behind her ear. The clocked chimed, signaling that it was midnight. "The witching hour." Jace murmured.

She bit down on her lip, looking down at the floor. "Do you trust me?" She asked him, looking back up.

He said nothing, his eyes dark. "I want to." He admitted.

She swallowed. Slowly, she grabbed his wrist. "Can you?"

The clock chimed again. He leaned down, his forehead pressed against hers. "I can try."

Something crashed nearby, a pot smashing against the floor. Eliza and Jace both jumped, looking towards the noise. Church was staring at them, standing in a pool of soil and broken pot.

Eliza erupted in a fit of laughter, her head resting against Jace's chest. "That damn cat." She breathed through her laughter.

Jace's hands were firm on her waist, holding her in place. "Hey, Starkweather?" She looked up at him, mouth slightly open, cheeks red from laughter. "Don't…don't let me down."

Her heart twisted. One day, when he found out who she really was, what she was, he'd hate her.

* * *

She twisted the short sword in her hand as she walked down the street. She wasn't sure where exactly she was going, but she knew that she knew exactly how to get there.

The thought had occurred after breakfast. She wanted to know what was so special about the sword and she knew the right person to ask.

Magnus Bane.

Whatever he'd done, he had told her how to get to his apartment building. She was in Greenpoint, Brooklyn when her skin began to prickle. She took that as a sign that she was getting close.

She stopped walking, in front of a dilapidated building. Her nose crinkled at the sight of the building. Surely the High Warlock of Brooklyn didn't live there…?

The door swung open as she went to open it. Magus, for sure.

She sheathed her sword and walked inside, keeping her eyes forward. She found the staircase easily enough and began ascending them. The stairs shook and creaked as she took every step. At the top of the stairs was a single door, bright red.

She lifted her hand to knock, but the door opened on its own. At her feet across the threshold was a small cat.

"Well, hello." Eliza smiled. She bent down to pet the cat but it darted away. She frowned, standing back up.

"Don't take offense. Chairman Meow doesn't like strangers. He frightens easily." Magnus was standing in front of her, wearing a soft purple silk robe and gold slippers. His black hair was tousled and he wore old glasses. She half expected him to pull a newspaper from behind his back and begin reading it.

"Cats typically don't like me at first anyways." She mumbled. "I was wondering if…I have a question." She said.

He ushered her inside and she shut the door. "I'm intrigued, little dove."

She took out her sword and handed it to him. He inspected it, looking at it from several different angles, weighing it with his hand, running his fingers over the blade and the rubies. "It's a family sword. Eosphoros, it means-."

"Morning-Bringer." Magnus said quietly. "This is a…this is a dark blade. A cursed blade. How do you have this?"

She spoke without thinking. "My father gave it to me when I was ten."

The warlock's eyebrows seemed to shoot up his forehead. He looked around the room before snapping his fingers. Her ears popped.

"Repeat yourself, Shadowhunter. I don't think I heard you correctly because your father has been dead for over fifteen years."

She glanced back at the door and shrugged her cloak off, putting it on the rack by the door. "No, you heard me. I…There's more. Can we sit?"

"I think I need to, yes." He led her to the living area, pointing to the couch. She sat as he sat across from her in the armchair. He crossed his legs, staring at her intently. "Speak, Shadowhunter."

She clasped her hands on her knees, leaning forward. "He's alive, Valentine is. My father. He's been raising me on the outskirts of Idris since the fire. He sent me here to…He wants the Mortal Cup. He thinks it's here."

Magnus stood up immediately. "Give me one reason right now that I shouldn't call the Clave immediately." His face was a dark red, his yellow cat eyes narrowed dangerously. "Shadowhunter."

She swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. "It's a test. He suspects I'm not loyal. And I'm telling the truth, being completely honest, when I tell you that I want nothing more than to make sure he never has that Cup." Magnus cocked an eyebrow in question. He told her to go on. "I can't let him have the Cup. He wants to finish what he started fifteen years ago. I must find it and get it to the Clave. Once I have the Cup, I'm going to go to the Clave and tell them everything. But I must have the Cup. I need help. I need your help, I think."

Magnus sat back down, crossing his arms over his chest. "Go on."

"I need to know what's so special about that sword. And I need to find my mother. I think she's here. In the city. And if I'm right, if my father is right, she knows where the Cup is." Magnus said nothing for a long time. He remained quiet, his eyes dark, face placid. "Please, Magnus. I need magic. He has to be stopped before he ruins the world."

He stood slowly, tightening his robe. He adjusted his glasses. "Come with me." She stood in suit. She followed him down the hall to a study. He opened the door, let her in and then shut it. The walls were lined with books and books, some not even in human language. "What do you want to know about the sword?" He asked, grabbing a book from the shelf.

"Something's wrong with it." He gave her a look and told her to elaborate. "I mean, when I use it against demons, it's like…it's almost as if it hurts them more than a seraph blade. They can't stand to even be near it."

Magnus licked his lips. He opened the book, leaning over it, his eyes scouring the pages. He flipped forward and back for several minutes, his fingers tapping against the desk. He groaned, slamming the book shut. He picked the sword back up.

"I wonder…" He murmured.

He snapped a finger, the lights dimming and the candles lighting. He murmured a few words in Chthonian, his voice deep and dark. The blade began to sizzle in his hand and he dropped it.

"I thought so." He muttered, picking it back up. "This has demon blood in it. Powerful…possibly a Greater Demon or even…maybe even a Prince of Hell."

Her eyes darted to the sword. Demon blood. Her father made her a sword with demon blood. Unless…unless he didn't know?

She shook the thought away. He had to know. It was her father.

"Can you differentiate the two? Maybe tell me what demon?" She asked.

Magnus put the book away, pulling out another one. "Give me a few days. I can figure something out. Now, let's get on to the more important things. Like finding the Mortal Cup."

She nodded, taking her sword back. She put it in its sheath. "I have to find my mother first. Her name is Jocelyn. Jocelyn Fairchild. She's probably changed it though. He has good reason to think she's in the city and he may be right."

Magnus moved from the desk and grabbed another book. This one was old, weathered. The spine was falling apart, the pages yellowed with age. Magnus blew dust off the book and opened it. "And what if your mother isn't in the city? What then?"

She hadn't really thought that far ahead. What if she wasn't in the city? "I go to her. Wherever she is. She knows him better than anyone."

Magnus raised an eyebrow. "This isn't about you confronting the mother who abandoned you?"

She scoffed at his remark, leaning against the desk. She crossed her arms over her chest, but the expression on her face didn't match her tough demeanor. "She didn't abandon me. I don't believe that for a minute. But I need her help. She can help me stop him."

Magnus smiled wearily at her. "Whatever you say, little dove." He looked at the clock on the wall. "You've been here too long. You need to go. Before your friends get suspicious."

He walked her out of his study and back to the door of his apartment. He helped her put her cloak back on. "You won't tell anyone? About any of this?" She whispered as he opened the door.

He shook his head. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. "Your secrets are always safe with me, little dove. Especially one as important as this. I'll send word whenever I have information on your blade or your mother."

In an instant, her arms were around his neck, holding him tightly. She sighed heavily, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank you." She whispered. "For everything."

Magnus chuckled, wrapping his arms around her. He patted her back softly. "You are one of a kind, little dove. Truly a rare being." He pulled away from her. "Now go, Eliza Starkweather."


	3. Chapter 3

Eliza flipped down from the ceiling beam, landing gracefully on her feet. Her eyes lifted from the floor to the dummies across the room. Almost automatically, three knives were launched from her hand. Each knife landed in the neck of the dummies.

Someone was clapping. Eliza stood, looking behind her. Jace was clapping his hands together, an impressed look on his face. "Well done. That was…impressive, to say the least."

She rolled her eyes. "You're making me blush. I do insist you not compliment me." She replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't be like that. I'm being nice." She muttered, saying what a joyous occasion that was. Jace shook his head. "I'm hungry. Let's grab lunch."

She looked back at him, flipping a knotted braid over her shoulder. "Not at that Taki's place. I don't like the way the werewolves look at me. And I especially don't like that rude fey waitress. I'm craving that hibachi place on 16th."

Jace rolled his eyes at her. "You know, if you show your face in Taki's again, you're showing them how brave you are. And Kaelie doesn't like a challenge."

Slowly, she decided he was right. "Fine. Taki's it is. Let's go."

* * *

"Are you kidding?" She laughed. "She hates me. Despises me. Loathes me!" Jace's hand was ever present on her wrist as they laughed, stumbling down the street.

So maybe they'd had one too many drinks at Taki's. It started as something to take the edge off from the always lingering Downworlder population in the restaurant. It hadn't gotten out of hand, not in the least. It had just gone slightly further than expected.

They were rosy-cheeked, laughing and actually having a good time. "She's jealous." Jace countered. "And she has every reason to be." His last few words were quiet, almost covered by her laughter.

She looked over at him, green eyes sparked with curiosity. "She does?"

They stopped walking. Jace's lips were parted, his eyes dark as he looked down at her. "Yeah. I mean…. yeah."

Her brow furrowed and she started walking again. Jace's hand wrapped around hers as he caught up with her.

"Hey, I meant it." He told her.

A funny feeling bubbled in her stomach. He did mean it. The way he was looking at her…Did he…Was he going to kiss her?

And then…it was like he was immediately sober. He smiled at her, releasing her hand and continued to walk. She frowned, rubbing her hand where his had been.

She didn't like the way she felt around him. She didn't like the warm and fuzzy feeling he gave her. She couldn't fall for him. She had more important things to do.

* * *

 _Little dove, I've found something. You'll want to hurry._

His voice in her head woke her up.

She hadn't even realized she had dozed off. The fire was dulled down, the embers barely sparking. She groaned softly, glancing over at Jace. He was fast asleep on the couch, his demonology book open on his chest.

Eliza closed her book quietly, leaving it on the floor. She pushed up from the armchair and silently left the library. She went to her room, grabbing her jacket, short-sword, stele and a seraph blade for good measure.

The subway was desolate, giving her more than enough room to worry over whatever Magnus had found.

A million possibilities ran through her brain. Had he found her mother? Was she in the city? Was she even alive? That single thought spawned a million more possibilities. If her mother was dead, how would she ever stop her father?

The train stopped at Queens and she got off, pushing her braids off her shoulders. It took her around ten minutes to arrive at his doorstep, pushing the door open and walking inside.

The decrepit look of the building no longer gave her the creeps, instead feeling slightly homey. Like she was always meant to end up on the doorstep of a powerful Downworlder who maybe applied too much eyeliner.

She jiggled the doorknob, but it didn't budge. He had called for her, hadn't he? She lifted her hand to knock on the door. The door rumbled at the proximity of her hand. She frowned, pressing her palm against the door.

At her touch, it swung open. Chairman Meow was waiting on her, a bored expression on his smug cat face.

"Impatient cat. Take me to your leader." She sighed.

Magnus' clock read that it was barely past two in the morning. The cat lead her to Magnus' study.

He had books sprawled all over his desk, his body leaned over them in interest. He looked up at her arrival.

"Good. We can start now." He shooed the cat from the room and with a flick of his wrist, the study door slammed shut. "I finally traced the essence in your short-sword. My suspicions were correct, as always." He was quite the cocky warlock. "The blood belongs to a Prince of Hell. Lucifer, in fact."

Her body erupted in chills at the mention of his name.

The Morning Star.

The irony was not lost on her in the least. Her family name was derived from his own.

Magnus was staring at her, his gaze hard-set. "I have another favor. A dangerous one, I believe." He frowned, telling her to ask away. "Can you summon him here? I would like to know why I have a short-sword with his blood in the blade."

Magnus waved his hands, all the books shutting loudly. They flew back to their respectful spots on the shelves. "Let me get this straight. You want me to summon a Prince of Hell, Lucifer no less, here? To my apartment? So, you can question him and possibly die?"

She nodded. "Yes. That sounds right to me."

Magnus huffed a deep breath. "I don't understand my fascination with you, little dove. But if this helps save the world…how can I say no?"

She smiled graciously. "Another day. I'm rather tired and I'm sure you'd like to get some rest as well." The warlock shrugged. "Thank you, Magnus. Your kindness and support really does mean the world to me."

Magnus patted her shoulder comfortingly. "I feel like you'll be worth the trouble in the end. Now, go get in bed. I'll let you know when I have any information, regarding your mother or this…matter."

She placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight. Don't forget to take that mess of make-up off your face or your skin will blemish."

He rolled his eyes at her. She knew he liked having her around. She wasn't sure why, but he did. And she liked him too.

* * *

There was only one thing that could keep her mind off the lies, off the double life, off everything that plagued her thoughts at night.

Training. She had been throwing knives for two hours, not hardly growing bored. Each knife landed perfectly where she wanted it to.

"Busy?" Jace was standing behind her, arms crossed over his chest.

She shrugged, launching another knife. "Depends on what you consider busy. What do you want?" She asked.

"It's important. I need your full attention." He told her. She didn't respond immediately. She continued to throw knives, her pile of knives then non-existent. "Eliza. Your attention, please." Was he begging for her attention? Oh, that was rich.

"I'm busy. Come back later." She muttered, standing up. She walked over to retrieve her knives from the three dummies. She turned, almost stumbling backwards. Jace had planted himself right in front of her.

"I need to talk to you. It's important." He growled.

She raised her eyebrows. "It must be quite important if Jace Wayland is begging for my attention." She drawled. She walked over to the table and put her knives in a fabric sheath. "Alright. What's going on with you?"

He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of the training room and down to his room. His room was impeccably clean. He shut the door quietly, staring at her with molten eyes.

Was it possible that he had somehow found her out?

"My dad died when I was ten." He started.

She bit the inside of her cheek. _No…the man you know as your father is alive. Alive and ruining my life_ , she thought. She knew that Valentine had raised Jace as if they were the Waylands. She just didn't know why.

He sat down on the bed and beckoned her. He waited to continue until she was sitting next to him. "My mother died in childbirth, so my father raised me alone. He loved me very much, even though he could be cruel sometimes. He would beat me on occasion, if I took too long to learn something or disappointed him. He got me my own falcon once."

Oh, she knew that story. Valentine had been distraught over the entire situation. He claimed Jace was too soft for his own good.

"I trained the falcon. I loved him, even. He listened to me, came when I called. I liked to think that he loved me back. When I showed my father how well I had tamed my bird, he snapped its' neck. He was so angry. He had wanted me to make the bird into a killing companion, not soften and tame it. He said: 'To love is to destroy and to be loved is to be the one destroyed.' Does that seem right to you?"

Unfortunately, it did. It sounded exactly like her father. He could be cruel and unforgiving.

They had had two birds when she was growing up. Hugin and Munin. Hugin resided at the Institute with Hodge, spying for her father. Munin stayed in Idris, waiting for her father's beck and call. The two birds were merciless and killers. Jonathan had trained them well. Eliza had tried to make them kind, but Jonathan's influence on them was unyielding.

"No." She finally spoke. "It doesn't seem right at all. Love is…" She hit a wall. What was love? She was sure she had never experienced it in any form. He may have said so, but her father didn't love her. She was sure he didn't love anything. You didn't whip someone you loved.

And Jonathan. She didn't even have to worry about him. He was competitive for their father's attention. And she let him have as much as he wanted. He had always held a competition with her for Valentine's favor. And though Jace didn't know it, Jonathan competed with him as well.

"I'm not quite sure what love is, but I don't believe it's destructive in nature." She said. "It can be, if used maliciously, but love isn't inherently destructive."

Jace nodded, as if he agreed with her. "I believed him for a very long time. I distanced myself. I couldn't allow myself to love anyone, not if it meant destruction on their part. And I myself didn't particularly want to be destroyed."

She said she understood completely. "Self-preservation." Wasn't she practicing the same concept? "Has something changed your mind?" She asked him. He didn't sound as if he believed the idea anymore.

He shrugged, his gaze meeting hers. "Not entirely, but it may happen soon." He mumbled. He straightened his back. "Anyways, I just wanted you to know something about me. Since you've been so open about your past, even though I've been a little rude."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "A little?" She scoffed. "Jace, you were downright ungracious. Not a gentleman at all." She told him, her voice a little quieter than she had hoped for.

He had an unusual look on his face. An apologetic one. A look she never thought would pass his face. "Yeah. I know. But do you understand why? Do you know why I acted that way?"

She told him that of course she did. "You were protecting yourself. And Alec and Izzy. Your wariness wasn't rude by intention, it was protective. I would have done the same thing." She lied.

Well, possibly. She would have been kinder. A little kindness went quite a long way.

He nodded, agreeing with her. "You aren't bad, Starkweather." Jace told her. "I don't half-mind having you around. You're a much better cook than Izzy, that's for sure." He chuckled.

She reached over, shoving him playfully. She was a better cook than Jace's adoptive sister. "Now I know why you're being so nice. You only want me for my cooking skills." She grinned.

He shook his head. "It's a bonus, that's for sure." The room went quiet. He was staring at her, those golden eyes of his boring into her, almost like he was reading every bit of her being. "When you first got here, I was sure you weren't going to be any good. I was sure you were going to get us killed on a hunt." How reassuring, she muttered. He smiled easily, saying he wasn't done. "You really proved yourself that first hunt. You didn't have any training experience at all, not anything much really. You've just gotten better. When Hodge first asked me to keep an eye on you…I was worried you might be what I thought. A waste. But you've proved me wrong on every assumption I've had. You're almost as good as me."

His praises passed right through her. She heard none of them. All she heard was that Hodge had asked him to keep an eye on her. The sentence looped repeatedly in her brain.

"I'm sorry. You said that Hodge asked you to watch me?" She blinked, stuck in her state of disbelief. "What for?"

Jace shrugged, not really caring about the circumstances. "He wanted to know if you acted weird at all. I told him you were fine. I think he was just worried about your adjustment or something. What's the big deal?"

Her voice was almost inaudible when she said it was nothing, her eyes trained on the floor. She'd have to be more than careful from then on, if Hodge was keeping an eye on her. Damn him.

* * *

 **July**

Magnus' voice in her head was insistent. A once slight whisper turned into full on shouting.

 _Eliza. I found her. I found your mother._

She choked on her noodles, dropping her chopsticks.

"Is everything alright?" Hodge asked her, his eyes cautious.

She had a lot to be thankful for. One of those things was that Hodge Starkweather had given her plenty of breathing room. He wasn't down her neck about finding the Cup. But she knew he should have been. She knew that her father had to be on his back about the Cup.

Or so she thought. She knew for a fact that Valentine was hounding him about the Mortal Cup as often as possible, demanding as could be. And she had thought that Hodge was giving her breathing room. Until Jace had let it slip that Hodge was watching her.

She refused to confront him. She had to let him think that things were going as planned. Well, as he thought they were planned.

She nodded, finishing chewing and then wiping her mouth. "Missed a noodle." She smiled lopsidedly.

Hodge shook his head wistfully and went back to his food. "So, how was training today?" He asked them.

"Jace and Eliza are show-offs." Izzy muttered.

Alec agreed instantly. "It's mostly Jace though. I think Eliza's just practicing on Izzy."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "You could practice a little easier." She told Eliza. "You're probably one of the Shadowhunters that the Clave is going to weaponize."

Eliza's bright green eyes widened. Was that really a thing? She'd never heard of it before. "Are you serious?" Eliza asked her.

Jace said no immediately. "She's messing with you. The Clave doesn't weaponize Shadowhunters. Manipulates them, maybe. But definitely not weaponizing them." He shot Izzy a tired look. "And as for showing off, I can't help that I'm better than you."

Jace was an excellent Shadowhunter. One of the best. Probably the best of their age. How could he not be? Her father had overseen him until he was ten.

She was still unclear of how her father ended up with Jace. He had never specified on the details, only that Jace was his to take care of. Jonathan knew. He always knew. Valentine told his precious monster everything, leaving Eliza to wonder in the dark.

Until Jace was ten. Valentine ultimately decided that Jace wasn't good enough for whatever plans he had and he faked his death again, leaving Jace in the hands of the Clave.

Eliza finished her dinner quietly. "Excuse me. I think I need to lie down, I've got the worst migraine." A migraine that would be attributed to one good blow Izzy had landed earlier.

"Feel better." Jace told her. She responded with a kind smile, murmuring a thank you.

Ever since the night in his room, Jace had been kinder. Softer with her. He sent warm smiles in her direction, was more patient when they trained, and they spent their sleepless nights in the music room as he taught her to play piano.

Izzy rolled her eyes as Eliza got up from the table. Eliza wandered the Institute for a few minutes before making her way back to the door. Not wanting to bother with the subway, she caught a cab.

The entire ride to Brooklyn, her legs shook. Her mind was buzzing.

Her mother.

He had found her.

She practically vaulted from the cab, running to the front steps of his building. She barely felt her feet touch the rickety stairs. The door to his apartment swung open and she rushed inside.

"Magnus? Magnus, where are you?" She called out.

 _My study, stop shouting._

She sighed heavily, making sure the door shut. She made her way to his study and shut the door. "I came as soon as I could. You said…you said you found her?"

Magnus beckoned her over. "I really don't know how I missed it before. I actually feel dumb for not figuring it out sooner."

Eliza hurried him along. "Magnus, you're rambling." She told him.

He closed his mouth firmly. After a moment, he agreed with her. "She goes by Jocelyn Fray. She lives in Park Slope. She's alive and she's here, in the city."

Her heart seemed to skip several beats. Her breath quickened. Her mother was in New York. Not just in New York, but in Brooklyn. Probably not far from Magnus' apartment itself.

"Eliza?" Magnus whispered softly. She looked up at him. "Do you want to see her?"

She nodded almost immediately. It wasn't a matter of if she wanted to or not. She had to. "I need her address. I'll go tomorrow."

Magnus pressed his fingers to her temple. Just the same as he had done when giving her the information to his own residence.

"There's another thing, little dove." Magnus said. She asked what it was. "Your mother has a daughter. Her name is Clarissa. She brings her to me so I can block the girl's Sight. She doesn't want her knowing anything about the Shadow World."

A sister. She had a sister. She swallowed, nodding. "Thank you, Magnus. I'll come here after and tell you everything I learn." He said he would hope so. "Did you get anywhere with the summoning?" He shook his head, saying no. "Well, one thing at a time then. I think I should go. Before Jace gets suspicious."

Magnus' face pulled a distraught look. She asked why he was making such a face. "I just…I wonder what you'll do with your Shadowhunter friends when you have to tell them the truth. About you and your…predicament."

She didn't want to think about that. She couldn't.

"It doesn't matter." She told him. "I can't think about how it's going to hurt them when they learn the truth. I can only think about helping our world." She couldn't think about the look on Izzy's face when she learned the truth. Izzy, who had been the first to welcome her in. And Alec, who had reassured her that she could be as good as them.

And Jace. She had manipulated him into trusting her and in a sick twist of events, fallen in love with him. He'd never forgive her. She didn't blame him.

"You deserve more, little dove." Magnus told her. "You deserve much more than what you've been given."

She really didn't think she did. Someone had to pay for her father's sins. And it wouldn't be anyone but her.

* * *

Green eyes stared back at her from the mirror. White-blonde hair roped into two thick braids. Dark black ink stood out against her porcelain skin. Runes. New, old and permanent ones graced her body.

She didn't know whether to wear gear or to wear normal clothes. Gear was the practical decision, but she didn't want to scare her mother.

In the end, she opted for gear. Dark black pants, boots, a black tank top. A seraph blade was tucked into the holster on her thigh, her stele stuck to the band on her bicep, her short-sword in its sheath on her back, two knives hidden in the silver bands on her wrist.

She wasn't sure where anyone was, but she easily slipped out of the Institute. She caught a cab to Park Slope in Brooklyn, resisting the urge to bite her nails on the ride.

Thanks to Magnus, she found her way to the apartment building. She locked her eyes on the door.

What if her mother wouldn't see her? Or worse, refused to help her?

No, that wouldn't happen. Once her mother knew why she was needed, Eliza was sure she would help. She had to help her.

"Girl, are you lost?"

Eliza looked up. The woman standing in front of her was elderly, her striped hair pinned to her head in a thick bun. She wore a brightly colored silk dress, a thick gold chain around her neck.

The woman repeated her question.

"Oh. No, I'm sorry. I'm just looking for someone. Jocelyn Fray?" The woman smiled tightly. "I had her commission a painting for me. I've just come to pick it up."

"Right. Of course. She's on the second floor, dear."

Eliza smiled kindly. "Thank you."

The woman nodded and hobbled along down the sidewalk. Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed the door of the brownstone building open.

The building was much nicer than the one Magnus resided in. It was upkept, at least. The stairs didn't creak as she went up them. The door didn't open at the touch of her hand. Her hand shook as she knocked loudly on the door.

Seconds passed, though it seemed like hours. She knocked again. "I'm coming! Hold on!"

Her heart clenched.

The door opened, slowly it seemed. Too slowly.

The woman was slim and tall, a slip of a person. Her painting smock hung on her loosely, her dark red hair pinned back, though curls still fell in her face. Her angular green eyes widened.

"Oh my God." She breathed. "It's you."

Eliza's fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "It's me." She whispered.

Jocelyn Fairchild's eyes immediately narrowed. "You shouldn't be here. You're dead. Or…you should be."

She nodded. "There's an explanation. A long…a very lengthy and awful explanation. But there really isn't time right now. I need to come inside, and we need to talk."

Jocelyn's mouth formed a tight line. "You-."

Eliza held her hands up. "This isn't about us or…it's not about me. This is about _him_. And I know you have a daughter. Her name is Clarissa. Magnus told me."

She raised her eyebrows. "You've spoken with Magnus Bane? Wait, how do you know Magnus?"

Eliza glanced over her shoulder. "I really need to come inside. Is there somewhere private we can speak?"

Jocelyn glanced behind her. After a pregnant pause, she nodded. "My room. Come in." She opened the door wider, allowing Eliza inside. She shut the door quietly and lead Eliza through the apartment to her bedroom. She shut and locked the door. "Start talking."

Skeptical. As she thought she would be.

"I need your help. I need to know where the Mortal Cup is." There was some sort of awful fire in Jocelyn's eyes. A knowing fire. "It isn't like that!" Eliza said quickly. "I have to give it to the Clave."

"I need more than that if you expect me to help you." Jocelyn told her. Eliza frowned. Of course. She took out her short-sword and handed it to Jocelyn. "This…He made this for you after you were born. He couldn't bear the thought of you not having a Morgenstern family sword. He named it Eosphoros, Morning-Bringer. He said the morning sun was brighter after you were born. His own Morning Star."

Bile rose in her throat. Theatrics. Lies. She was sure her father had never really cared for her. How could he? He only wanted control over the Shadow World, nothing else.

"How do you have this?" Jocelyn asked, admiring the weapon. "I thought everything was lost in the fire."

"Not everything." Eliza admitted. "You know he's a liar. He lies to get what he wants. He used to tell me that I was the most important person in his world. He told me every night before bed. I used to think I was special to him. Now…now, I know he only said those things because he wanted me to find the Cup for him." Jocelyn's mouth tightened. She'd have to tell her everything to get her trust. Trust she needed because she needed help. "After the Uprising, he hid us away. And then he started the fire. He hid us-."

"What do you mean, us? Is he…is Jonathan…?"

Eliza nodded. "He's alive. And so is my father. That's why I'm here. He sent me here to find the Mortal Cup. He wants to finish what he started."

"Why you? Why not Jonathan? Or the both of you? Why not come himself?" So many questions, so little time.

She had to answer them all. "He doesn't trust me. It's a test. If I deliver the Cup, he knows I'm his. He wants me to prove my worth. He knows how loyal Jonathan is. And he couldn't come himself. He's dead." She hated the words she was about to say. The unspoken truth she had never admitted to. "I'm the insurance policy." She mumbled. "Marisol Hardtower hid us in her cottage. Until a few years ago. She no longer held use for Valentine."

"Give me one reason I shouldn't call the Conclave right now." Jocelyn's tone was icy.

Eliza stood up. "I won't give it to him. I won't let him destroy everything. I need the Cup, so I can hand it over to the Clave. So, I can tell them where he is. I must stop him. And I need you to help me. Magnus helped me find you and Hodge Starkweather…he runs the Institute but he's loyal to Valentine. He watches my every move for him."

Her eyes wandered the room. They landed on a photo of three people. The two females both had red hair. Jocelyn watched her gaze. She plucked the photo up and handed it to Eliza. "My daughter, Clary and Luke Garroway."

Her brain sparked. "He's a werewolf. I've met him. Well, we've run into each other." The werewolf from the alleyway.

Jocelyn's eyebrows raised. "You know Luke?"

She shrugged. "I got turned around in the city a few weeks ago. He was out with one of his pack, I think. He…He knew who I was. He scared me. I don't…The Downworlders really don't like me and I didn't know who they were. Magnus appeared and ran them off. Told me they were werewolves and that he didn't think that Luke would have hurt me."

She studied the girl's face. Her younger sister had the same bright green eyes as she did. She smiled softly, handing the photo back to Jocelyn.

"Luke was known as Lucian Greymark in Idris. Before you were born, he was Turned. Your father ran him off, but told me that Luke left on his own. He found me three years after I moved here. He helps a lot. He would never hurt you, not if he knew the truth as I do."

She believed her. Her heart swelled. Something in the apartment crashed.

"Sorry, Mom!" A girl yelled.

Jocelyn thrust the sword back into Eliza's hands. "You have to go. Clary can't know about any of this."

Eliza sheathed her short-sword. "Do you know where the Cup is?"

Jocelyn said yes. "That's all I can tell you right now. I have an appointment with Magnus soon. Be there and I'll tell you everything. I promise. But you have to go now."

She nodded. She glanced at the window, eyeing the fire escape. That would have to do. She didn't believe she'd get out the door without being spotted by her sister.

"Eliza." It was the first time she had directly addressed her by name. She looked at her mother. Jocelyn pulled her in, hugging her tightly. Shocked, Eliza stood there, embraced by her mother. Slowly, she put her arms around her, resting her head on her mother's shoulder. Jocelyn pulled away. She affectionately touched one of Eliza's braids. "I used to wear my hair in braids just like this." She smiled. "You don't know how happy I am to see you. To see that you're _good_." She whispered. There was something puzzling in her green eyes, but it dissipated quickly.

There was a quick knock on the bedroom door. "Mom?" Clary's voice was clear through the wood door.

Jocelyn frowned but Eliza smiled. "I know. I'll see you soon." Eliza slid the window open and slipped through the opening onto the fire escape.

* * *

Eliza tossed her weapons onto Magnus' coffee table. She slumped onto the couch. "Are you going to talk or what?" Magnus asked her.

Chairman Meow hopped into her lap, nudged at her hands. Rolling her eyes slightly, she began running her fingers through his fur. "She said she'd help me." She told him, trying to contain her excitement. She felt like a little mundane girl on Christmas morning, bursting with excitement. Magnus goaded her to continue. "She's…she's not exactly what I suspected. I mean, I assumed that maybe she had gone soft after all the years, but she seems even more resilient. And…she didn't seem so surprised that my father is alive. Almost like she expected him to come back." She murmured. "Nothing else matters other than the fact that she's going to help me. She said that when she brought Clary to you the next time, I would come, and she would tell me everything."

Magnus nodded, propping his feet onto the table. "Good. Things are coming along well for you, then. Do you think everything will happen the way you think it will?"

Her hand stopped on top of the cat's head. She hadn't really thought about it, to be honest. She had just assumed that everything would go perfectly to plan. It had to. "I can't afford to think anything else." She glanced at the clock, realizing how late in the day it was. "It's time I go. They'll wonder where I've been all day."

She stood up and passed the cat off to his owner. "I'll let you know when they come. It should be before my trip to Tanzania."

Tanzania? That was the first she was hearing of it! "You're leaving?" She asked him coldly. "You could have said something beforehand."

He told her to stop being childish. "Just for a few weeks. I'm a High Warlock, I have out-of-town business to attend to. You'll be fine without me."

She huffed a breath. She was being childish. But it was Magnus. He was her best friend. He knew everything about her. Well, he didn't know about Jonathan. But no one needed to know about Jonathan.

"I know that. I went seventeen years without you. I suppose I can go a few weeks. Just let me know when my mother is here." She told him.

He said he would.

Sometimes, she forgot how old Magnus was. He had lived for centuries, seen so many things and probably faced so much scrutiny for being a warlock. He was enchanting and wonderful and extremely kindhearted, despite everything. And he seemed to care for her! How odd!

"Your thoughts are too kind, little dove." Magnus teased her, his voice knowing. She pursed her lips at him. "You are too easy to read sometimes. I do appreciate the sentiment, Miss Morgenstern. Learn to give yourself some credit. You aren't so bad yourself."

Her sour expression melted into a soft smile. "Good-bye, Magnus. Please be safe on your trip and hurry back. I hate to say that I'll miss you."

"And I you, my little dove."


	4. Chapter 4

It was just after one in the morning. Her brain was still buzzing with excitement. She couldn't get the image of her mother out of her mind. Kind but hard green eyes, her lithe figure Marked by silver runes, her dark red hair a curled mess. Beautiful. That was the only word Eliza could conjure up for her.

Sighing heavily, Eliza got out of the bed. She trudged from her room down the hall to Jace's. He always left the door cracked, just in case. She quietly pushed open the door.

He was sitting up, a book in his hands. She watched the way his eyes flitted over the pages, absorbing every word. "I've been waiting on you." He said quietly, marking his place and shutting the book. He tossed it on the night table and met her eye. "Hungry?" He asked.

Was she hungry? It was too late (or early) to eat! She was exhausted. She wanted sleep!

"I'm famished myself." He went on. "Could use a late-night visit to the kitchen." He was out of the bed in a blink, beside her instantly. "Aren't you _hungry_ , Liz?"

His voice made her stomach knot up. "I could do for some food." She said quietly. He grinned wickedly, grabbing her hand.

Their walk down to the kitchen was quiet. Jace grabbed the bread from the cabinet and plugged the toaster in. "Toasted peanut butter jelly sandwiches." He told her, not looking in her direction.

She hopped onto the counter as he got out the peanut butter and jelly jars. He tossed the peanut butter to her. She twisted the lid off and dipped her finger in, proceeding to lick the peanut butter off.

"You were out for a long time today." She looked up from the peanut butter jar. He still wasn't looking at her. His hands were gripping the counter, the corded muscles in his arm tensed.

"I wanted to be alone." She lied easily. The feeling in the pit of her stomach deepened. Lying was a second nature to her but she would never stop hating that she had to lie to him. Even if it was to protect him.

He turned to look at her, an unbelieving look on his face. "You wanted to be alone." He reiterated. "Why?"

She shrugged, putting the jar down. "This has been an adjustment, to say the least. I'm so used to the quiet, to being alone. Everything about this place, the Institute, New York, you, it's all so much sometimes that I feel as if I'm suffocating in the life of it all. Sometimes I go out, I wander the city, just to think and to breathe and be alone." She explained.

The toast popped out of the toaster, but he didn't bother tending to it. He moved to stand in front of her. He put his hands on her thighs. "We can always talk, if you'd prefer." He informed her. "I'm a good listener."

She glanced at the jar, sticking her finger in and covering the tip in peanut butter. "Maybe I don't need to talk, Wayland. Maybe I need…comfort." She suggested. She stuck her finger in her mouth, licking the peanut butter off.

"I'm a good comforter too." He murmured. "An above average one, at that."

She raised her eyebrows. "How kind of you to offer your services to me." She sighed, handing him the jar of peanut butter. "I think I'm satisfied for the night, though. Exhaustion has hit me quite suddenly." She hopped off the counter, her pale hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves. "Goodnight, Jace." She said quietly.

She got to the door of the kitchen when he called out her name. She half turned to look back at him. The peanut butter jar hung limply at his side. "I was being true about the offer. To talk. I want you to be able to talk to me about things. I don't want you to feel as if you must hide away. I want to know you and…I want you to know me."

Her lips spread into a very small smile. He was breaking her heart. He was tearing her apart. She would know him, know every bit of him. What made him tick, his favorite books, the way his fingers glided over the piano keys and everything that tore him apart on the inside. But he would not know her. Not the real her, anyways.

He would know Eliza Starkweather that was raised as a quiet young girl in Alicante who had something to prove, not the Eliza Morgenstern that had been whipped and trained by her father.

Maybe one day, he would know the real Eliza Morgenstern. The one who found the Mortal Cup, stopped her father and helped save the world.

One could hope.

* * *

Alec was a good Shadowhunter. He wasn't as good as Jace, but he was good. A good sparring partner.

"Jace has been keeping you on your feet." Alec noted as he jabbed at her.

She blocked his hit with her forearm, protecting her face. "He's a show-off, as Izzy said. He likes to prove he's better." She said. Jace was a great training partner, but his need to show-off inhibited her from really learning from him. She preferred Alec for training.

Alec grinned, agreeing whole-heartedly. "And here I thought the two of you were thick as thieves." There was a hint of something in his voice. Was it…jealousy? She said nothing of it. She knew better. "Am I wrong?" He asked her.

She said yes. "We aren't what the two of you are, Alec." She assured him. "Jace and I have some things in common that make us…friends." Friends was a nice word. And they were, friends. Nothing had happened between them. On several different occasions, something was on the brink of occurring, but never happened.

He gave her a questioning look and jabbed again. She blocked again. "You don't sound sure."

Her leg went out, swiping his from under his body. He fell on his ass with a loud _thump_. "I'm sure, Alexander. To him, we may not even be friends. You know how he feels about me." She did detect the layer of hurt in her voice. She was sure he'd hear it too.

Alec stood up, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, I do. And it isn't what you think, Eliza. Contrary to what he thinks, Jace cares about you. More than…probably more than a friend cares about another friend."

Yes. There was jealousy in his voice. But it wasn't malevolent at all. Just wistful.

Eliza smiled uneasily, brushing the idea of Jace wanting her away. "Round two?" She asked Alec. "I could kick your ass again."

Alec smirked. "Bring it, Starkweather."

* * *

 **August**

She wasn't nervous as Hodge pulled her into his small room by the library and shut the door, locking it. She wasn't nervous as Hugin stared her down, his beady black eyes looking like portals straight to Edom.

"Your father grows impatient." He said quietly.

She snorted in amusement. "Grows? As if he's never been impatient before? What an amusing thought." She replied dryly.

Her father's middle name should have been Impatient.

Hodge didn't find her remark quite as funny as she did. "He writes me often, wondering where you are on your task. Why you haven't found it yet. You've been here for nearly four months. He expected you to be done. He- we both wonder where you go when you leave for hours."

Now Hodge was making demands of her? Could things get any worse?

She bit her tongue as kindly as she could. She took four deep breaths before replying. "It's taking a bit longer than expected, I know. You'll have to assuage his worries. I had to assimilate into my new environment, gain the trust of my peers. That takes time. I must train with them and go on hunts, make them feel as if they know me and I'm their friend. And then find time to look for the Cup, find and follow leads, weed out the wrong leads. If he wanted it done quickly, he should have sent Jonathan." Her voice grew acidic towards the end of her rant.

It wasn't that she was jealous of her brother. That wasn't possible. And it wasn't that she despised him, she only despised what he was, what their father had made him.

Hodge began to speak, but instead shut his mouth. After a few silent moments, he spoke again. "Very well. I shall write to him tonight and tell him that you're gaining progress. Slowly but surely. I'll tell him that you've gained the trust and friendship of your peers. I'll assuage him as best I can. But you had better hurry. You know how he can be."

She grimaced. The scars on her back proved that more than anything. She said nothing as she left his small room and exited through the library.

Her small hands were fists at her side, clenched tightly in anger. She was taking too long. But good plans of betrayal took months' time.

She hoped Hodge was convincing enough for her father.

* * *

Everything, and she meant everything, was falling to pieces.

Magnus was in Tanzania. He had had to leave earlier than thought. Which meant that she wouldn't get to see her mother for a few more weeks. She couldn't very well waltz to her door. What if Clarissa saw?

Her mother had made it clear she needed to wait on her.

Eliza knocked her head against the wall.

"You okay?" Izzy laughed, walking into the library.

Eliza straightened immediately. She looked at Izzy, an awkward smile on her face. "Yeah. Of course. Jace just gets unbearable sometimes." She replied uneasily.

Izzy would believe that. Everyone knew how Jace could be.

Izzy smiled comfortingly. "What did he do now?" She asked.

"He just…the way he acts sometimes. He can be kind at one moment and then incredibly rude the next." Eliza said quietly. It was the truth. Jace had an unusual way about him. His moods were nearly unpredictable. If he was in a good mood, the entire Institute was beaming. But if he was cross…the world might as well have been in flames with him.

Izzy scoffed at her. "You've been here since May and you're just realizing that he can be a complete ass? Where have you been, Eliza?" There was a playful smile on the younger girl's face.

"I've known for a while. He was so cruel when I first came. He's changed." She admitted. "He's warm and kind." She didn't realize how her face brightened when she spoke of him, how her lips turned up in a brilliant smile as she thought of him. "But sometimes, he gets in one of his moods and he's quite sour again. I don't know how you've dealt with him for so long." Her voice was weary.

She wasn't only tired of Jace's changing moods. She grew weary of the lies and deceit. And overall, she was plain worn out.

"He cares a lot about you, Eliza." Izzy finally said. "Jace does. He won't admit to anyone, probably not even himself. But it isn't hard to see."

First Alec and then Izzy? The two of them had to be delusional. Sure, there had been several instances where she and Jace had been alone and things had nearly…transpired between them.

She had wanted his trust, needed it. And sure, maybe she had wanted him to want her. She couldn't count the nights she had wondered if he was thinking of her; she couldn't count the times her stomach had twisted at the way he looked at her, the glimmer in his golden eyes.

But she didn't want _this_. She didn't want his love and affection. She could break his trust. She couldn't break his heart.

* * *

As always, her pale blond hair looked white. An undeniably attractive trait she had inherited from her father. Her fingers worked nimbly through her hair, knotting it into two thick braids that fell over her shoulders and down her chest. Vivid green eyes stared back at her in the mirror. Eyes granted by her mother. Her lips were a slash of vibrant red on a canvas of fair skin.

She recalled Jonathan in her mind. His black eyes, swirling holes of darkness. His hair the same pale blond as hers. The two of them shared their hair, among few other things. They both had that tall and slender look to them. They shared the soft porcelain skin that so often graced the Morgenstern family. The same high cheekbones, granting them a regal sort of beauty. Both twins had long and thick eyelashes. Slender and graceful hands.

It mostly seemed that the only starkly noticeable physical difference between the two of them was that Eliza's eyes were a forest of green and Jonathan's were a dark hole of black. No, there was more. Jonathan retained more muscle on his body, looking more like their father as he grew older. Eliza was smaller, her body lither than his. Jonathan's mouth was thin and tight; Eliza's small and full.

They both had the same jagged and thick scars on their backs.

Her face pinched in the mirror as memories of being hit with that infernal whip cut her mind. She bit the inside of her cheek fiercely and pushed the memories out.

There had been a knot in her stomach since Jace told them of the demon whispers at Pandemonium. She didn't feel good about it in the least.

The dark Marks on her body stood out boldly against the pale color of her skin. Her finger traced the old silver remnants of the runes past on her arm.

She tightened the bright red leather top, making sure it wouldn't fall off but also wouldn't bother her breathing. She laced her boots tightly. It wasn't customary gear, but this wasn't a customary night. At least, they were hunting an ordinary demon: An Eidolon, a shape-changer. Most demons liked pretty girls to hunt, especially the shape-changers.

Izzy and Eliza usually served as bait. Hence, the red leather top and black leather pants. She demanded attention that warm August Sunday night.

She grabbed her short-sword and slid it into the sheath on her back. She made sure her stele was carefully contained in the band on her right bicep. Green eyes scanned over her room a last time, making sure she had everything. Satisfied, she left the room, closing the door softly.

Her feet went quietly over the old floorboards as she made her way to the weapons room. Alec, Izzy and Jace were there already, each blessing their own seraph blades.

"Didn't think you were ever going to make an appearance." Jace said curtly.

She said she wouldn't miss it for the world as she made her way to the table. She took two deactivated seraph blades and laid them on the table. She took out her stele and blessed the blades, naming them _Peniel_ and _Puriel_. She slid the dull grey tubes into the holsters on her thighs.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the indiscreet look that Jace and Alec shared. Alec had his what-have-you-done-now look on, showering Jace with the withering glare. Jace wore the ever present nothing-at-all simper.

Eliza rolled her eyes and went straight to the knife table. She picked out two small throwing knives. Her stele moved gracefully over their thin blades, etching out runes.

"Jace, go talk to her!" Alec hissed. Poor boy, she laughed to herself, he thought he was being quiet.

"I didn't do anything to her." Jace grumbled.

She slipped the two knives into the silver metal bands on her wrists. She secured them tightly.

"Why else would she be acting like that, if you didn't do something to piss her off?" Izzy intervened.

Eliza turned to face them, her braids whipping over her shoulders. "Enough." She groaned. The three of them looked at her, eyes wide. "Jace hasn't done anything. Yet." Jace smiled in triumph at Alec and Izzy. "I don't feel right about going out tonight. There's a feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like…like everything is about to change and it may not be for the better."

Jace gave her a look she didn't quite know how to interpret. "So, you're nervous?" He grinned crookedly. "You've been on several hunts now. You'd think you'd be used to it."

Her face turned to stone. It was one of his days. Her full mouth set into an annoyed line. "I'm ready to leave. I'd like to get this over with."

Izzy was wearing a floor length white dress, lace sleeves covering her arms. She wore a ruby pendant around her neck. The around of her eyes was covered thick with charcoaled eyeliner. "Damn." Izzy whistled. "We look hot. If only the mundies could see us." She sighed wistfully.

Jace frowned at her statement. "Let's go." He said darkly.

They gathered their weapons quickly and stalked towards their hunt.

* * *

Jace grabbed her arm, letting Alec and Izzy enter the club first. "Eliza."

Her face pulled down. She was trying to pull from him, in every way she knew how. He couldn't want her. She didn't want to hurt him more than she had to. "We need to go inside." She told him.

He nodded, saying they did. "Where've you been lately? You've been distant." There was a little hurt in his voice. She withheld a grimace.

"I need space. I told you that I needed to be alone sometimes." She reminded him. The look on his face tore at her heart. She sighed, her resolve faltering. Her hands went to cup his face. Her smile was soft and reassuring. "You are my greatest sin, Jace Wayland." She wanted to kiss him. To finally feel the warmth of his lips against her own, his body pressed against hers. "Now, we've got a demon to catch." She tore her hands from his face, steadying them at her sides.

His face fell and a millisecond later, it was stone. "Yeah. Come on."

She followed him into the club. Lights flashed over the room. Dry-ice covered it in a haze. The raw life of the Pandemonium Club never failed to take her breath away. She loved the feeling of it, the adrenaline of just standing in the building.

"We should try to blend in." Jace's voice was determined. She agreed in a quiet voice. It was in an instant that his hands were on her waist, spinning her to face him. His grip became tight, his forehead against hers.

"Jace." She hesitated. Her voice was thick. She tried to make her eyes go anywhere but his. She tried to scan for Izzy or Alec, but the dark gold of his eyes sucked her back in. "We really shouldn't…The demon…"

His tongue darted out, swiping over his bottom lip. "Earlier, you said things were going to change tonight, for the worse. What if…what if it's for the better, instead?" She'd never heard his tone before. He was, almost nervous sounding. "Do you remember that day we talked in my room? And I told you about the falcon, what my father said to me?" Her eyes wandered, and she said yes. "And do you remember when you asked if something had changed my mind about my view on love?"

She was going to vomit. He couldn't really be saying what he was about to.

"Yes. I think so." She murmured.

His hands travelled up her sides to rest on her neck. Heat radiated from him, like he was the sun. She would have believed it, with his golden eyes and halo of golden curls that rested atop his head.

"Eliza, I-."

Her eyes drifted from his face. Not too far from them, she saw Izzy, drifting through the room. Her white dress billowed around her. She looked like an ethereal sort of entity. Eliza looked past Izzy to see a boy with electric blue hair and a wooden stick in his hand. Watching her.

A little too intensely. For a moment, only half a second, Izzy's gaze met Eliza's. A confident and knowing smirk played the younger girl's lips. _She knew_.

Eliza looked away, back to Jace. "Izzy's got it. The demon. He's locked on her. We'd better move."

She was thanking the Angel himself for granting her an exit. Jace's mouth turned down. "Liz-." He started before stopping himself. His jaw set. "Another time." He decided. She said of course.

Izzy began moving, almost like she was floating. As she moved, the blue-haired demon moved behind her, his eyes trained on her with a sort of hunger only demons possessed.

Jace was away from Eliza, his absence bringing a cold and hollow feeling to her. She checked herself for her weapons. Undoubtedly, she still had all of them. She spotted Alec in the crowd, moving towards the back storage room.

The demon was following Izzy, lost in her enchantment of beauty. And as he followed her, Jace and Alec followed him.

Jace and Alec stopped at the storage room door. For a moment, they spoke to each other. After their short exchange of words, Jace looked back at Eliza. One swift nod of his head towards the door was her signal to move in.

She pushed her braids onto her back and started to cross the room. Her eyes were hard set as she slid past mundanes. In no time, she was standing next to Jace and Alec.

"Oh, surely you boys weren't waiting on me." She simpered. She noticed the way Jace' jaw was hard set. He didn't say anything, he only pulled out one of his knives. "Right then." Eliza squared her shoulders. "Let's go kill a demon." She smiled brightly.

Jace opened the door and let her inside. He slipped in behind her and Alec followed.

They entered the room to find Izzy standing over the boy, who was lying on the ground. Izzy's electrum whip was curled around his ankle.

Izzy smiled back at them. "I got him for you." She seemed to glitter with triumph.

Eliza walked over to Izzy. Her red lips formed a smirk at the demon boy. "The blue hair is an exciting touch." She told him. "I like it."

Alec grabbed the boy and shoved him against one of the concrete pillars that held the roof up. Alec's slender hands worked to tie the boy to the pillar with a wire. Jace walked to stand in front of Izzy and Eliza.

"Well, are there more of you or not?" Jace asked him, his stance rigid.

He wriggled in Alec's bind. "More of what?"

Jace liked to play with his demons before he killed them. And Eliza hated to admit that she enjoyed doing it as well. She also cared to admit that Jace became increasingly attractive when taunting demons.

"You know what we are. Don't play games." Jace told him. "Eliza." He called on her.

She stepped forward, letting the boy take her in. She watched the way his eyes scoured over her body, taking in the way the tight leather of her pants stretched over the shapes of her legs, how he saw tightness of the red leather halter and how it accentuated her chest perfectly. And she saw him skittering over the runes, the dark blacks and the silvers.

"I thought we liked playing, Jace." She smiled wickedly at the demon. "I do love games." She said in a sultry voice.

"You are Shadowhunters." The demon spat.

Eliza's grin grew bigger, darker. "We got you." Jace breathed. Jace put his hands in his pockets and glanced at Eliza. "Ready to play?"

Eliza's eyes darkened as she stared the demon boy down. His face was taut with pain and was that…fear? "Oh, I'm always ready." She murmured.

Jace seemed to relax at her eagerness. He lifted his hands and crossed them over his chest. He began pacing back at forth. Eliza stood, her hands on her hips, shoulders tense and square.

"Are you going to answer my question or not?" Jace asked the demon. "I want to know if there are more of your kind with you."

The demon struggled. Eliza got the faintest whiff of ichor. "I told you I didn't know what you were talking about." The demon reminded him darkly.

"Demons." Alec spoke, now by Izzy. "Jace means demons. Please tell us you know about demons."

Eliza knew Jace was growing bored. And fast. The boy turned to face away from them. "You know about demons, don't you sweetheart?" Eliza said softly to the demon. "You'll tell us everything you know about them." Her voice was a deadly mixture of sweet and demanding.

"Demons are oft described as hell's denizens. We Shadowhunters tend to describe you as malevolent beings-." Jace's instructional was interrupted by Izzy.

"Jace, that's enough I think." Her voice was tired. Eliza believed she was the only one who enjoyed Jace's hunting antics.

Alec sighed heavily. "Izzy's not wrong, Jace. I don't believe anyone here needs a demonology lesson."

Jace's smile was the smile of a predator. Eliza squatted next to the demon, running her hand through his hair. She didn't like the coarse nature of his blue locks. He shivered as her finger ran down his cheek. When the demon looked at her, her eyes glinted black.

"Alexander and Isabelle believe that I talk too much." Jace told the demon. "What do you think?"

The boy stayed silent. Eliza watched the way his mouth twitched, as if he were thinking incredulously hard. Eliza's fingers were in his hair once more. She gripped the thick locks tightly and shoved his head into the pillar.

"Answer his questions." She hissed. "Or I'll be the one asking, and you won't like my methods." There was a darkness in her voice that she couldn't put a name to. It made her feel good. And she knew if a darkness made her feel good, it was most certainly bad.

The demon smirked at her. "Oh, I think I would like your methods."

Her lips parted, clearly surprised by his response. She glanced back at Jace. He waved his hands. "By all means." He told her. "See if you can get somewhere."

Eliza released his hair from her grip. She fiddled with the band on her wrist, producing a small knife with a thin blade. She held the knife carefully, stroking it down his cheek. "You see, Jace likes to play with words. I like to play with sharp objects. He wants to confuse you into giving yourself to us. I want to convince you." With a sharp suddenness, she sunk the knife into his thigh.

He howled out, his arms tight against his restraints. "Bitch!" He shouted.

She yanked the knife out and he screamed again. She wiped the blade against his pants, getting the ichor off. "Tell us what we want to know." She muttered against his cheek.

He turned, his mouth close to her ear. "I'll eat you first. Savor every bite of you."

She jerked away from him. She stood up, her green eyes dark with anger. Her breath was heaving, chest rising under the red leather top.

"I have information." The boy groaned. "Information on Valentine."

Time stopped. The air thickened in the room. She felt all eyes on her. She was especially aware of Jace's gaze, boring into the demon. "That's funny." She finally said after a few tense moments. "I know for a fact he's been dead for fifteen years." She told the demon. "So, what can you tell us that we don't already know? Is he back as a ghost? I love ghosts." Her smile was wide and deadly.

Jace's hand was on her shoulder. Reassurance, she thought. "It's messing with you, Liz. It's trying to get in your head. Fill you with lies and distract you."

She nodded, sliding the knife back in its sheath. "Kill it." Izzy spoke from behind them. "The thing is useless."

Jace seemed to agree with her, as he pulled one of his seraph blades out. He murmured a name and the blade sprang to life. "Eliza? The honors?"

Her eyes fluttered down to the blade and she shook her head.

The boy went alert at the sight of the seraph blade. He wrenched back and forth. "He's back! Valentine is back!" He shouted at them. His eyes settled on Eliza. "I can tell you where he is!"

In a flash, Eliza's knives were lodged in his biceps. Her eyes were a dark color, nowhere close to the forest green they usually were. The demon shouted in pain, wordless cries. "You can't tell me anything I don't already know." Her voice was hot, lava flowing over a hill, on its way to destroy a town.

She bent over him, snatching the knives out in a cruel fashion. She wiped his own ichor on his cheeks and sheathed the small knives. "All of you demons seem to know where Valentine is." Jace said coolly. "All of you bastards want to tell me where he is." He seethed.

" _I'm sorry?_ " Eliza's voice had turned cold. "What do you mean by that?"

His body went stiff. Slowly, he looked at her. "There were a few nights we went out without you. We couldn't find you. And there are some demons who seem to think that Valentine is back from the dead."

She felt like falling. She locked her legs and swallowed hard. They couldn't know. "Give it." She held her hand out. He stared back at her. "Jace, the blade." He made no move. "Jonathan Wayland, give me the seraph blade." He handed it to her. Her grip was tight on the weapon.

"He wants _you!_ " The demon shouted at her. "He's coming for you!"

She spun the seraph blade in her hand and pointed the blade at him. "Yeah? Say hi to him in Hell for me."

It happened in a blink. A small girl darted out from behind one of the pillars, her hair bright red. "Stop!" She screamed. "You can't!"

Eliza's green eyes widened at the girl before her.

Clarissa.

Her sister.

The seraph blade fell to the floor, her hand limp at her side. _What the hell_?

Every other person except for Clary had a look of stun on their face.

"What. Is. This?" Alec broke the silence. His blue eyes travelled from Clary to Jace to Izzy to Eliza and back.

Eliza quickly replaced her expression with a blank one. Jace stood up straight. He eyed Clary carefully. "This is a girl, Alec. She is a girl, just as Isabelle and Eliza are girls." Jace inspected Clary carefully, his eyes roving over her. "A mundane; one who can see us."

Eliza wanted to say no. Clary was one of them, she just didn't know it. "Well, I'm not blind." Clary retorted.

Jace leaned to pick the seraph blade up. "Yes, you are."

"Leave." Eliza finally spoke. The words barely left her mouth. Clary turned to look at her. The same green eyes. Jocelyn's eyes. "Leaving is in your best interest. Go." Eliza was amazed at how much she sounded like their mother.

"And let you kill him? I don't think so." She was pointedly staring at the blue haired boy. The boy she didn't know was a demon.

"Why do you care what happens to him?" Jace asked her, the seraph blade spinning between his fingers. "He's just a lowly demon."

Clary's face pinched. She clearly had no idea what Jace was talking about. "You can't just kill people." She told him.

Jace sighed, growing bored. "No, no you can't. Which is great news for you because this boy is a demon. One greatly skilled in looking like a person."

"Enough." Eliza's voice cut through the air. Jace looked back at her. "She can't know anymore." She had to leave. Clary could not know anything else about the Shadow World.

Clary crossed her arms over her chest. She had a defiant look on her face. "I've called the police already. They'll be here soon."

Eliza cocked her head to the side. A liar. Well, they had that in common. Alec called her bluff. Out of the corner of her eye, Eliza spotted movement.

Just as she turned, the demon sprang free, crying out. He lunged at Jace, knocking him to the ground. The demon tore at Jace with metallic claws. Eliza heard something hit the floor. Izzy was screaming.

Blood, Jace's blood, tipped the demon's claws. Jace's arm went over his face as the demon slashed at him.

Izzy's whip cracked down, hitting the demon on the back. Eliza flinched at the noise the whip made. The scars on her back seemed to burn.

The demon rolled to the floor. Jace grabbed the seraph blade. He shoved it into the demon's chest. Black ichor spurted from the wound. Eliza watched with blank eyes as the demon writhed on the floor.

Her eyes jumped to Jace as he stood. He roughly yanked the seraph blade from the demon's chest.

" _The Forsaken will take all of you!_ " The demon shrieked.

Eliza disregarded the comment, stepping over his writhing body to be closer to Jace. She didn't care that Alec and Izzy were there, she didn't care that her sister was there or that the demon was dying on the floor.

Her hands were on his neck, her skin white against his. She made him look at her, her eyes searching his. "Are you okay?" She whispered. "No, of course not. You're bleeding everywhere." She laughed quietly.

"Liz…" Jace glanced at the ground.

She put one of her hands over his chest, the blood flowing over her fingers. "Shh. We need to get you to the Institute. Alec, help me." Alec was at Jace's side instantly, lifting his arm. He began inspecting the wound on his arm. "You'll be fine." Eliza assured him. "Good as new in a few hours."

His hand found her waist and he steadied himself.

"Where do you think you're going?" Izzy's voice was hard as rock.

Eliza ripped her gaze from Jace. Izzy was standing in front of the door, blocking Clary's way out. Izzy's whip was wrapped around Clary's wrist.

"Jace could have died because of you." Izzy snarled.

Clary yanked on the whip in vain. "You're all crazy." She huffed. "When the police get here-."

Jace laughed softly. Clary looked back at him. Eliza had her arm around his waist, his good arm draped over her shoulders. Her small hand was pressed against his chest to try and slow the bleeding. "The police won't care." He told Clary. "There's no body for them to concern themselves with."

Clary finally looked at the ground. There wasn't a body at all. Nothing to prove that the blue haired boy had existed at all. She looked at him, an incredulous look on her face.

"When they die, demons are sent back to whatever dimension they came from. In case you were wondering."

"She wasn't." Eliza grumbled to him. "She doesn't need to know anymore, so keep your mouth shut."

Jace looked down at her. "She knows too much already."

She knew he was right. Clary had seen them, watched them kill a demon. Eliza was sure their mother would kill her.

Izzy asked what they should do with the girl. Jace quietly said to let her go. Izzy, though clearly disagreeing with his decision, let her whip fall from Clary's wrist.

"I think that Hodge would like to speak to her, since she can see us." Alec said. "Maybe we should take her to the Institute with us."

Eliza's eyes flashed. She turned to Alec, glowering at him. "No." She growled. "She is not returning with us." Clary could not know anything else about them and Hodge certainly could not know about her existence.

"Eliza is right. She's a mundie." Izzy said icily.

Jace gently pulled away from Eliza. He walked close to Clary, his eyes thin with question. "Tell me true, little girl, have you ever walked at night with a warlock or talked to the vampires? Perhaps you've dealt with demons, the truly monstrous looking ones." Jace's voice was soft, the way that a rolling storm cloud as it sat, waiting to wreak havoc.

The door of the storage room was opening. Jace turned away from her, returning to Eliza's side. Her already blood-stained hand once again went to his chest.

"Clary?" A male voice said. It belonged to a boy about their age and one of the club's bouncers. "Where are the knife guys?"

Jace shrugged as Clary looked back at him. "It was a mistake." Clary said thickly.

Isabelle giggled. Clary's eyes met Eliza's. Eliza lifted her bloody hand and made a motion, signaling for Clary to keep quiet. Her eyes were pleading, _please don't say anything. Please forget this_.

* * *

As soon as they got back to the Institute, Eliza shoved Jace to the infirmary room. She forced him to sit on the bed. "Take off your shirt." She told him. She took off her wrist bands that held her knives, as well as the belt holster that contained her unused seraph blades. She removed the sheath and short-sword on her back, laying it all on an empty bed. She'd have to return her things to the weapons room later.

Jace's eyebrows quirked up instantly. "Well, Eliza, if you want me to get naked so bad, you should have said something earlier." Without ease, he shed his bloody shirt, tossing it to the floor to not stain the bedclothes.

"Don't be cheeky." She mumbled. Her stele was in her hand in a blink, working healing runes and blood flow slowing runes over his body. Once she was finished, she put her stele back up. "I'll go get you some clean clothes and you can go ahead and shower."

His hand was on her wrist, warm and insistent. "Liz…It's another time."

This again? Very well, she thought, I'd best entertain him. "I suppose it is." She smiled. "What did you want to tell me earlier?"

He pulled her down to sit next to him on the bed. His hand was ever so present on her knee. He opened his mouth, as if he had something to say but couldn't quite find the right words to say it. "Damn it all to hell." He muttered.

She frowned at him. What exactly was he trying to tell her?

And then his hands were cupping her face and he was kissing her. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. She stared, eyes wide open. Just as she felt him begin to pull away, she did what she shouldn't have and deepened the kiss.

Jace was clearly surprised at her action, just as much as she was. He was pulling her closer to him, his movements urgent as if they couldn't get close enough. Her hands gripped his shoulders, his travelling to her back.

"No." She whispered against his mouth. "We can't." She pulled away from him, his hands falling from her body.

His eyes darted over her face, his hands limp on the bed space beside where she sat. "What's wrong? What did I do?"

She shook her head fiercely. "It's not…you didn't do anything wrong."

The heat of the moment had worn away, leaving her frazzled. It had been enough to make her forget about the demon talk for a while.

The demons. Clary. _Valentine_.

She scrambled from the bed. She needed to talk to Hodge.

"Liz? Liz, I have to tell you something." Jace's voice was full of defeat. "I want you to know that I-."

She glared at him, her eyes dark. Her pale cheeks were tinged red. "Oh, Jace, enough! Leave it alone, please." She left no room for argument on his part as she stormed out of the room.

Her feet were thunderous as she made her way through the Institute. Hodge was in the library, Hugin on his shoulder.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Hodge asked, looking up from whatever he was working on. Probably a letter to her father.

She slammed her hands down on the wooden desk, the green no longer evident in her eyes. "Is he here? Is my father here?" She was quiet, just in case someone was near. Hodge said nothing. "Start talking, Starkweather."

Hodge put his pen down. He sighed very heavily, as if the information weighed on his entire existence. "Yes. He's here. And he is quite livid with you."

She could imagine. "Rightfully so, I believe." She murmured, the scars on her back burning. "Did you even try to assuage him?" She asked.

Hodge said no. "I honestly didn't see a point in aggravating him further. He told me to tell you that he would deal with you after he had the Cup."

So, she still had time. Enough to do something to stop him. "I'd better be on my best behavior then." She said coolly, leaving the library.

Her heart was racing. She didn't pay attention to where she was going, only that she was going where she needed to. She wound back at the infirmary room. Jace was still on the bed, gazing up at the high ceiling.

"Jace." She announced herself. She walked over to the bed. "Say it." She told him.

He sat up, unsure of what to do. "Say what?"

She sat herself on the bed. Her eyes peered into his. "I don't know." She said truthfully. "Whatever you were going to tell me earlier, I need you to tell me now." Before everything changed. Before the world went into flames.

Jace bit on his bottom lip. He was quiet, refusing to look at her. "I love you." He said, his voice a whisper. "I'm in love with you."

She hadn't wanted him to be. It made everything worse. But if felt good. Knowing he wanted her. Knowing he loved her. She forced herself to remain placid and stoic. She stood up, her hands clenched at her sides. She choked back her response and turned, walking quickly away.

* * *

Late that evening, she was in her own room. Her mind wouldn't- no, couldn't turn off. She kept replaying the incident at Pandemonium. The Eidolon claiming her father had returned from the supposed dead, Jace revealing that he had heard similar claims from other demons, Clary bursting in.

 _Magnus, I need you. Things are dire. I'm afraid._

She felt a sort of comfort deep in her mind. Was he…Was he sending her a psychic hug?

 _No. I need you back in the city. Right now._ Even in her head, her voice was urgent.

 _What is it, little dove?_ Concern coated his voice. _I'm not quite done in Tanzania so unless it's an emergency, it will have to wait._

 _He's here. He's in the city, somewhere. My father is in New York. He's angry and I'm afraid, Magnus._

He was quiet for a few minutes. She wondered if something had happened to him or happened to their link. Maybe he had severed it, decided to protect himself. She wouldn't blame him if he had.

 _What are you going to do? I don't believe he'll be happy with you._

She shook her head. Eliza snatched her pillow and put it over her face. _I don't know. He's ruthless and evil. He'll want whatever information I have on the Cup and he'll do anything to get it. He'll hurt Alec or Izzy. He'd hurt Jace, if he had to. And I would tell him, I know I would if he even mentioned hurting them. I'd tell him everything, even about my mother and my sister. I must protect them. I don't know what to do, Magnus._

Silence met her again.

 _I have an idea_. Magnus replied after a long while. She had almost given up on him. She asked what it was. _I can put a block on your memory. Take what I need, make it so that you don't know what you know. I can change reality for you._

 _You must. If it keeps them safe, all of them, I will do whatever I must._

 _I'll be home in two days. Get your affairs in order._

She didn't say anything else. She considered two days plenty of time to figure something out. To figure anything out, really. She pushed the pillow off her face and got out of the bed. She walked quietly to Jace's room and nudged the door open.

He was fast asleep, the blanket half off of his body. She crawled into the bed beside him. He stirred, turning towards her. "Hi." He mumbled, half asleep.

His arm fell over her waist, pulling her close. "Jace, do you believe in forgiveness?" She whispered.

His eyes fluttered open. They were the color of a hazy gold. "Guess so. Depends." She asked what it depended on. "What's being forgiven. I'd forgive someone over a disagreement or something small. But lies, big lies, I don't know. And I'll never forgive the men that killed my father."

She sucked in a breath. She wanted to tell him that the man he thought was his father was alive. Alive and in the city. But she couldn't. No, not yet.

"Why?" He mumbled.

She didn't reply. She buried her face in between his neck and shoulder. "Can you just be quiet and hold me?" She asked. He pulled her a little closer, not saying anything. His breathing steadied, and she knew he was asleep. "I'm sorry." She murmured softly. "I'm sorry for letting you love me."


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey, we're going out." Jace appeared in her room, dressed in light gear.

She looked at him through her mirror. "Are you going to be vague or tell me where we're going?" She asked.

He smirked at her. "I found the girl. From last night. I want to talk to her; I want to know how she can see us."

She almost dropped her hairbrush. Not Clary. They couldn't bother her. They had to leave her be. But she couldn't argue with Jace. And she did want to see how she was holding up after the previous night.

"Well?" Jace grew impatient very quickly.

She pursed her lips, putting her brush down. "Stay while I get ready." She decided. Her fingers hurried through her hair, knotting it into its twin braids. She changed into dark pants and a black shirt. She put a dark vest on over the shirt and laced up her boots. "Weapons."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Weapons? This is a stealth mission."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Wayland. We at least need a seraph blade or two." He followed her to the weapons room. She worked swiftly, blessing two seraph blades and handing him one. She kept the other, stashing it in her vest. She put her knife bands on and blessed two throwing knives, sheathing them tightly. She looked back at Jace, smiling. "Let's go."

He grabbed her hand and they left the Institute. She asked where he had found the girl from the club. "Found out she was going to some mundane coffee place called Java Jones." His mouth worked, like there was something he wanted to say but didn't know how to say it in the right fashion. "So, last night…"

She smiled, a pink tint coloring her pale cheeks. "Nothing needs to be said about last night, Jace." Blushing seemed too trivial a thing for her, but he made her blush like she was a twelve-year-old girl who had just had her first kiss.

In a way, she was that twelve-year-old girl. She'd been isolated her entire life, never knowing anyone but Marisol, her father and her brother. The previous night's kiss had been her first.

Jace's grin lit up her entire world. He was quite literally the sun. "I love you." He continued smiling.

They arrived at Java Jones, walking through the door unseen. They picked a spot in the back to sit. Clary and an unknown boy that she seemed to be friendly with were sitting in front of them. Clary hadn't noticed them at all.

Jace leaned over, his mouth close to Eliza's ear. "This feels mundane, doesn't it? Listening to poetry in a coffee shop."

She looked at him from the side of her eye. "Sure. Except for the fact that we're armed. And incredibly dangerous."

Jace smirked at her. "Deadly is better suited for us."

She shoved him lightly. On the stage, some guy was reciting terrible poetry, an unusual and unpleasant expression of pain on his face. Right in front of them, Clary and her friend were talking intimately. Specifically, he was talking about an unnamed girl he liked. Clary was being completely oblivious to the fact that her friend liked her.

Jace coughed to try and cover up his laughter. Eliza shot him a withering glare. "Jace, don't." She hissed. "It's romantic."

Clary turned, her eyes wide as she took them in. Simon turned too, completely looking through them. Jace waved half-heartedly at Clary, his family ring glittering in the light. He leaned towards Eliza. "Come on." He grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

The two of them got up and walked out of Java Jones. Once they got outside, Jace leaned against the wall, as if he expected Clary to come running after them.

Eliza fiddled with the wrist braces, the tips of her fingers skimming over the slim knife blades. When she looked at Jace again, he was messing with his Sensor. With the setting of the sun, the sky was turning shades of pink and purple and Jace's hair had a coppered gold tint.

"You're beautiful." Eliza told him.

He pulled a face. "I prefer handsome."

She said no, handsome wasn't enough. It didn't do him justice. "Any man can be handsome." She told him. "But you're beautiful. Like an angel."

His golden eyes glinted. The doors to Java Jones slammed shut and they both looked in the direction. Clary was staring at them. Jace smiled brightly at her. "Your friend is really bad at poetry." He told her.

Eliza smacked him on the bicep. He looked at her, eyes wide with surprise. "Don't be rude, Jace."

"Excuse me?" Clary called their attention.

Jace pocketed his Sensor. "His poetry. The guy on stage. He's really bad at it. Someone should tell him."

Eliza rolled her eyes. "I'm sure she didn't follow us out here to ask us what we thought of the poetry." She told Jace. She looked back at Clary. "It was rather awful though." She admitted.

Clary gave an exasperated sigh at the two of them. "Followed you? You're following me!" She huffed. "And no, I don't care about your opinions on Eric's poetry. I don't even care about his poetry!"

"No one said we were following you." Jace countered.

Eliza pursed her lips. It wasn't technically following, but they had gone out looking for her. "Don't forget the eavesdropping." Clary said. "Either the two of you tell me what's going on and why you're spying on me, or I call the police and they sort it out."

Eliza entertained the idea of her calling the police in her head and then shut it down. Jace snickered quietly. "Little girl, the police aren't going to believe you when you tell them there are invisible people following you. They're going to admit you." His voice was unusually withering.

"My name is Clary. Not little girl." Clary said, her teeth gritted.

"Like the sage." Eliza whispered quietly, thinking no one heard her.

But Jace did. He always did. It was like he specifically listened for her voice. "Ah, yes. Clary sage. You know, in the old days, people thought eating the seeds let them see the Fair Folk." Jace told Clary. She said that actually, she didn't know that. Her tone was snippy and full of loathing. "You're quite the perplexing case, Clary." He drew out her name, every letter. "You can see us, but you prove to be just as mundane as every other mundane."

Clary asked what a mundane was. "A person who comes from the human world." Eliza answered. Clary said that they were human too. Eliza shrugged, a movement that seemed so unlike her. "We aren't like you." She half-lied. Clary was a Shadowhunter. Shadowhunter blood ran true, it ran dominantly. But Clary hadn't been raised like them. She had the blood, but she didn't have the training or the knowledge.

Not that she or Jace could know that. If everyone remained ignorant of who Clary was, she was safe. Even more so once Magnus came back.

Clary frowned. And then her face pinched in anger. Her cheeks turned a slight color of red, a different red than her carrot colored hair. "So that's why you were laughing." Clary said, as if she had discovered something previously hidden. "You think you're better than us. Better than everyone." She was looking pointedly at Jace, but Eliza had a feeling that she was not left out of the accusation.

Jace rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Wrong." He said in a bored tone. "I can't help but laugh when someone is declaring their love. Unrequited love amuses me."

Eliza laughed then. Both looked at her. She covered her mouth to smother her small fit of giggles. "I'm sorry." She said, her laughter dying down. "But Jace, declarations of love amuse you? You're the one to talk!"

Jace flushed. "Don't, Liz. It's different." She made an annoyed face at him. He didn't respond, looking back at Clary. "Besides, your friend, what's his name?"- "Simon."- "Simon might be the most mundane person I've ever seen. Also, Hodge considered you to be dangerous, but you are very clearly not dangerous. At least, not to us."

He had spoken to Hodge? Eliza looked at him, jaw slack with shock. "I didn't know you talked to Hodge about this." She said quietly.

He nodded. "Of course. She could see us."

She sucked on her teeth. Hodge knew about Clary's existence. He may not have known who she was exactly, but he knew about her. Things were getting stickier and stickier. She was losing time too fast.

"Dangerous? The two of you are dangerous!" Clary said quickly. "You killed a guy last night!"

Jace was completely nonchalant about the encounter. "We know. We know who we are, what we are. Do you know what you are? Who you are?"

 _Don't push her, Jace. Do not bring her further than where she is._

Clary asked who Hodge was. Eliza was half-tempted to answer that he was a lackey for her father, a traitor to the Clave. But she kept her mouth closed. "Hodge is our tutor. Will you show me your right hand?" Eliza's voice was everything Jace's had not been. She was inviting and trustworthy. Sympathy and kindness saturated her words.

"For what?" Clary asked. She continued after a half a moment. "Will you leave me alone if I do?"

Jace said of course and Eliza knew he was lying. He sounded too happy about it. Clary held out her right hand. Eliza took it with both of her small ones. Eliza had several inches on the other girl, almost towering over her.

Clary's knuckles were dusted with light freckles. Eliza's movements were gentle as she inspected Clary's hand, turning it over, her eyes straining to see what she knew wasn't there. "Are you left handed perhaps?" She asked her. Clary said no. She asked why. "When we're children, we Shadowhunters are Marked on our dominant hands. It's permanent, never going away." Clary muttered that she saw nothing on Eliza's hand. "Look closer." Eliza whispered, breaking the rule her mother had set.

But Clary was in too deep already. There was no going back. Clary jerked, and Eliza knew that she had seen the Voyance rune- the Shadowhunters take on an eye- on the back of her left hand.

"You have tattoos. Cool." Her voice was flat, unimpressed.

Eliza smiled at her coolly. "They're runes." Jace spoke up. "We burn them into our skin."

Oh yes, Eliza's smile fell, let her think we mutilate ourselves. She really won't think we're crazy then.

"There are different runes for different things." Jace continued. "Most vanish after filling their purpose, but some are forever." He looked up at the sky. "It's almost dark. We'd better get going. Come along, Clary."

Clary looked at Eliza, green eyes wide with a mixture of fear and surprise. "You said…You said you'd leave me alone."

Eliza gave her a sympathetic look. "Well, I lied." Jace told her. A turn of events, Jace being the liar. "Hodge wants to talk to you."

What? Hodge wanted to talk to her? That couldn't be good. Why was Jace hiding things from her?

"Why?" Clary asked him. Yes, Eliza also wanted to know why. As far as anyone needed to know, Clary was a mundane with a touch of the Sight. So what? It happened all the time and no one had a cow over it before.

"You know about us. It's been at least a century since anyone knew the truth." Jace told her.

Eliza wished he weren't so dramatic. Things could do without his flair.

"No one's supposed to know about people who believe in demons and warlocks, then?" Clary remarked sarcastically.

Eliza hid a smile. She liked her. "What Jace means," Eliza interrupted their conversation, "is that no mundane has known about Shadowhunters in a very long time. We do believe in demons, yes, but that's because we kill them."

Clary set her mouth in a line. "Well, what if I don't want to see this Hodge guy?"

It's better if you don't, Eliza thought bitterly.

"You come willingly, or we take you." Jace said honestly, not caring that he sounded very much like a kidnapper. Which was exactly what Clary accused him of being.

Before Clary could say anything else, her phone began ringing. Eliza looked at the phone hopefully. Please be Jocelyn, she thought, please call Clary away and take her far away from this.

Clary turned away from them to take the call. Eliza heard bits and pieces. "Mom?...I'm fine, Mom. I'm coming home-…Mom!...Who found you? Mom what's going-Mom!" Clary was shouting.

Mom. Jocelyn.

Eliza wanted to move, to console Clary, but her feet were stuck to the ground, her legs betraying her.

"What's wrong?" Jace asked. Clary didn't answer. "Clary, talk to us."

She messed with her phone, redialing and redialing. She dropped the phone to the ground. "Damn!" She shouted.

Eliza moved then. Jace was on his way to her but she easily bypassed him and went to Clary. Her sister was on her knees on the ground. She squatted down and put her hands on Clary's shoulders. "Look at me, Clary." She said in a soft voice. Clary looked over at her. "Tell me what's happened. Is your mother okay?" _Is our mother okay?_

Clary shook her head and jerked away from her. She went for Jace, jerking his Sensor from his shirt pocket. "I have to use your phone and call the police."

Eliza sighed, standing up. Jace told her that it wasn't a phone, it wouldn't work. "We can help you if you tell us what's going on." Jace insisted.

Clary reached out, smacking him across the face. Jace stumbled back in surprise. Clary took off running down the street.

"Clary! Clary, wait!" Eliza called. But Clary kept running. She turned to Jace. "Let me see." She muttered. Jace showed her his cheek. Yes, it was a little red and there were splotches of blood where Clary's nails had cut into the skin. "You'll be fine." She patted his cheek softly. "We've got to go after her, you know."

Jace said he knew.

* * *

Eliza pretended not to know how to get to Clary's brownstone in Park Slope. But once they got there, something heavy filled her stomach.

Something was wrong.

The foyer of the brownstone was dark, the light burned out. The lights on the stairwell were out as well. Eliza took out her Witchlight and it shone in the darkness. Jace followed her up the stairs, the feeling in her stomach making her feel nauseous.

The apartment door was wide open, letting light out. She pocketed her Witchlight and stepped inside.

The apartment was brightly lit. Every light inside was on. The living room windows were wide open, the white curtains ripped. The cushions from the couch had been torn and ripped apart, thrown carelessly around the room. The bookshelves had been knocked down. The piano bench lay on the floor, music books scattered beside it. All the paintings had been shredded at and torn from their canvases.

Eliza bit down on her lip as she took the scene in.

The kitchen held a similar fate. Cabinets strewn open, a bottle of some red sauce shattered on the floor.

Her nose stung, so she knew that whatever had done this was a demon. But what kind, she had to know. What had ruined this place? What had her mother so afraid?

She followed Jace around the small apartment, walking towards the back of the home. He nudged the master bedroom door open. Eliza immediately shielded herself from the smell. Demons smelled awful; if they left a body, they smelled worse dead.

"She's still alive." Jace told her.

Eliza uncovered her face, her nose still scrunched up. The Ravener demon was dead on the floor. Next to it was a young girl, not far from their own age at all. Her wild red hair was a mess of curls. She lay unconscious on the floor.

Clary, Eliza thought. _Where was Jocelyn?_

She bent down next to the Ravener. There was no visible injury on the demon, other than the black liquid coming from its mouth. What had killed it? She groaned and stuck her hand in its mouth. She felt around until her fingers grasped something. She pulled it out, covered in demon saliva.

Jace's Sensor.

"Well, she isn't dumb. She shoved the Sensor in its mouth. It must have choked on the runes. Probably saved her life." Eliza mumbled. A surge of pride went through her. Even without the upbringing, Clary was a Shadowhunter.

Jace knelt, checking her pulse and breathing. "It stung her. We gotta get her back to the Institute before she dies." He told her.

Eliza frowned at her companion. "Okay. You carry her. I'll guard." She stated. Jace huffed a breath and picked up Clary's limp body. He grimaced as he began to walk out of the bedroom. Eliza gave him a look. Was he really struggling to carry Clary? The girl had the stature of a child.

"You could help, instead of making fun of me." He suggested lightly.

She smiled at him, holding the door open for him as he made his way into the hallway of the apartment. "You know, I would but making fun of you is so much more fun." She did want to help, but she worried that if she looked too eager, Jace would think something was up.

She followed him out of the building. There were two cops outside, talking quietly. Jace and Eliza hid behind the rose bushes and Jace laid Clary down gently.

Eliza peered through the bushes, watching the cops. "Du'sien demons." Eliza reported. "There's no getting out of here without them seeing."

She glanced back at Jace. Clary's eyes were open. "Don't move." Jace warned her. Clary moved anyways. She wavered as she sat up. "I told you." Jace sighed.

Eliza moved over towards them and lifted the hair from Clary's neck. She grimaced. "The Ravener stung you in the neck. We're going to get you back to the Institute, so we can heal you." Eliza told her. "Don't worry." She whispered so only Clary could hear.

"It talked to me." Clary began shaking as she recalled the terror.

Eliza nodded as Jace tied a cloth around Clary's neck to cover the wound. "You've heard them speak before. At Pandemonium." Jace told her.

Eliza asked what the demon said. Clary only said it was going to eat her. "A good thing you killed it then." Her smile was meant to be encouraging. She glanced back at the Du'sien demons and then at Jace. "Go. I'll catch up." She told Jace. "Get her back to the Institute."

"What about my mom?" Clary's voice was a whisper. Eliza gave her a soft look, one that said she wasn't sure about her mother. _Their mother._

He shook his head. "I'm not going without you."

She leaned forward and cupped his face. "Yes. You are. She's going to die if she doesn't get help soon. She can't die, Jace. She can't." Jace frowned at her, at the pleading in her voice. She glanced back at the demons and then looked back to him. "There's only two of them. I can handle it. Hodge said I'm better than you, remember?" There was a hint of taunting in her voice.

Hodge held Jace to the highest when it came to training. He always said Jace was the best Shadowhunter of their age. And then Eliza came. She hadn't been bad at the start, but not at Jace's level. It didn't take long for Eliza to become as good as him, maybe even better.

Jace scoffed. "Almost. He said almost." He reminded her. "Besides, you've always had backup." There was something in his eyes, something that made her stomach knot up. She recognized it: fear.

She leaned forward, her green eyes seeming to darken. "Jace, we don't have time to argue. We came to save her life and that's what we're going to do. Now go." She pressed a kiss against his lips and pulled away. She looked at her unknowing little sister, oblivious to everything that was happening. "You're going to be okay. I promise."

She stood up and made her way through the bushes. The demons were focused on the apartment building, not even paying attention to her. Not until she got close. Somehow, demons always knew when she was near. They turned, sickly smiles on their faces.

"Officers." Her voice was high and sweet. "I'm having a little car trouble down the block. I could use a little help." She suggested sweetly.

To them, she looked like a quick meal. "Of course." The female officer said. "Lead us there."

She refrained from glancing back at the rose bushes. She led the officers down the street to a secluded and dark area. She took out her two seraph blades. "Is it me or do you demons keep getting more and more stupid?" She asked.

She twirled the blades in her hands. "You are the stupid one." The male demon said. "We haven't eaten in days."

"Give it your best then." She hissed.

Both lunged at her. She ducked and slashed at the female demon. The blade cut right through the demon's stomach. The demon screamed as she turned to dust. Eliza smiled at the remaining demon.

"Is that all you've got?" She asked him.

He growled, running towards her. He slammed her against the alley wall and grabbed her by the throat. "You smell good." He growled. "Can't wait to eat you."

Her fingers fumbled as she produced two small knives from her jacket pocket. She shoved one into his side and he howled as he stumbled backwards. She picked up her seraph blades from the ground and used both to sever his head.

She wiped them off on her jeans and put them back on her back. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and sighed heavily.

All she wanted was a hot shower and to crawl into her bed. Or Jace's. She wasn't picky.

* * *

 _I'm back, little dove._

 _Thank the Angel. But it must wait. Something has…come up._

 _Oh? Do tell me more._

She recounted in her mind what had happened. Clary finding them at the club, she and Jace finding Clary at the coffee place, the call from Jocelyn, the Ravener in their apartment and rescuing Clary and bringing her to the Institute.

 _I'm staying to find out what she knows and then I'm leaving. It must happen after Clary wakes up. I need to know she's okay._

Magnus said he supported whatever decision she had to make, but they couldn't wait forever. And they wouldn't, she told him.

* * *

For three days, Eliza paced. She didn't sit by her sister's sickbed like she wanted. No, she paced, and she threw knives. From what Izzy said, Jace hadn't visited Clary at all. At least Eliza checked on her occasionally.

But Eliza was there when Clary woke. Her sister's eyes fluttered open.

"And she lives." Izzy remarked dryly.

Eliza shot Izzy a contemptuous look. Clary turned slowly to look at Izzy, who was sitting on the next bed. "What Izzy means is that we were worried you would die in your sleep. We're pleased that didn't occur." Eliza said clearly.

"Am I in the Institute?" Clary's voice was raspy, sounding very much like she had been unconscious for three days.

Izzy rolled her eyes, flicking a braid over her shoulder. "I suppose there's nothing Jace and Eliza left to the imagination."

Eliza stood up and poured Clary a glass of whatever Hodge had sent from the pitcher on the bedside table. "Yes, this is the Institute. You're in the infirmary, a sorry place to experience first." Whatever the drink was, Clary had to drink it very soon after waking up. "This is a tisane, though I'm not sure which one. You haven't had any sort of nutrient in a few days. This will help." She handed Clary the cup. The girl's eyes skirted from the glass to Eliza. "Drink." Her tone left no room for argument.

Izzy slid off the bed she had been occupying. "My name is Isabelle. Isabelle Lightwood, but everyone usually calls me Izzy."

"Clary Fray."

Clary's eyes moved to Eliza. She waited. "I'm Eliza Starkweather. I was-."

"You helped save me. You were with Jace."

Eliza nodded, a pink tint coloring her cream face. Izzy snorted. "When isn't Eliza with Jace?" She asked sarcastically.

Eliza's cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. "Izzy, don't be childish." She said quickly. "Especially in front of a guest."

Clary asked how she got to the Institute. Izzy perked up, ready to tell the story. "So, apparently, Jace and Eliza go to rescue you and you've killed the Ravener demon all by yourself. The cops are demons, so Eliza uses her super badass skills to kill the demons and Jace brings you here. Hodge was pretty pissed at them. You got ichor and everything all over the rugs. My parents totally would have grounded Jace if they'd been here."

Clary closed her eyes. "I killed that thing." She whispered, opening her eyes.

Eliza said yes, she did.

"Where's Jace?" She asked, looking around the room. So, she wasn't the only one expecting him to be there.

Izzy shrugged and then said that she was going to go tell everyone else that she was awake. She pointed towards the bathroom and said that she had left Clary some of her old clothes. Clary asked where her own clothes were. Izzy smiled slightly. "You see, they had quite a lot of ichor and blood on them. So, Jace burned them."

Clary frowned. "Is he always so rude or is it because I'm a mundane?" She asked the two of them.

Eliza said he wasn't always rude. "He is." Izzy countered. "One of the reasons he's so hot." She gave a half-apologetic shrug to Eliza. "And he's killed more demons than anyone else his age."

Eliza let her have it. Jace was incredibly attractive. Izzy could admire that. "But isn't he your brother? He lives here with you." Clary asked, confusion coating her voice.

Izzy laughed loudly. "No. He's not my brother." Clary asked why Jace didn't live with his parents. Izzy looked at Eliza, her eyes dark.

"His parents have passed on. He doesn't like speaking about it, so we don't." Eliza said in a careful voice. Clary asked how quietly. Eliza opened her mouth and then shut it again. "His mother died giving birth to him and his father…" Lie, lie, lie. "Jace's father was murdered when Jace was ten. He was unfortunate enough to witness the event."

Izzy sighed, ending that conversation. "Now, I'm going to tell the news that Clary's woken up. Please freshen up, you smell." Izzy left after Clary thanked her.

Clary looked at Eliza. "Go and freshen up and change. I'll be here when you're finished." She helped Clary from the bed and the girl disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Eliza sat on the bed, her chin in her hands. She hoped this didn't take too long. She needed to ensure everyone's safety. Then more than ever.

The Ravener in her mother and Clary's apartment had been no coincidence. She was sure it had something to do with Valentine.

Clary came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. Izzy's clothes looked absurd on her, but she didn't say a word. The jeans were much too big and the shirt was too big in the chest area. Eliza sized her sister up. She was sure she had clothes she could borrow.

"Well, Izzy's taste is a little…different. I believe I've got some things you could wear more comfortably." Eliza told Clary.

Clary said thank you in a quiet voice. "Why are you so nice? The others are abrasive and they're rude. But you're not."

 _Because we're family_ , she wanted to say. But she didn't. She couldn't. "I grew up in a place where people were rude to me all the time. It still happens occasionally, if I run into certain people. Growing up like that, it can teach you to be kind. I think the world could use a little kindness, don't you?" Clary smiled and said yes. "Hmm, I think we'll go find Jace. Give him the news that you're awake in person." She decided.

Clary followed her to the corridor. It was empty, the rose lights flickering. Eliza didn't have to strain her ears to hear the sound of Jace's piano playing. She led her sister down the corridor to the music room. The sound of Jace's melancholy playing grew louder and louder still as they approached the room.

Jace was seated at the bench of the grand piano. Eliza could see how his hands glided across the keys. His halo of curls was messily done, his feet bare.

The floor creaked and Jace looked up. "Alec?" He called, not seeing them.

Eliza stepped into the light. "I'm offended. I don't think I resemble Alexander in any sort of fashion." She wore a different sort of smile on her face when she was near Jace. Like there was no way everything could be falling apart around her because there was Jace Wayland, beautiful and hers. Jace apologized in a sincere tone. "You can make up for it by playing something happy." She told him. "You always play such sad songs."

He stood up, peering into the dark next to her. Clary stepped forward quietly. "Well, look who's been kissed awake. It's about time, Sleeping Beauty." Jace carefully slid the cover of the piano closed. "Where are we off to?"

Eliza smiled radiantly. "We came for you. But I suppose to see Hodge now?" Jace said that sounded like a fine idea.

He looked at Clary, taking in her appearance. "Isabelle's clothes look absolutely ridiculous on you."

Eliza swatted at him. "Stop it. You burned hers." She snapped. "If I'd have known how ill-fitting they were going to be, I would have volunteered my own. Which, Clary is more than welcome to go through my closet after this and find something better suited for her."

"How generous." Jace drawled. "Can we stop talking fashion and go to Hodge?"

Eliza rolled her eyes in distaste, but said yes. As if by instinct, like they had been doing it for years, like it was the most common thing in the world, Jace's hand found hers. His fingers roped around hers. His free hand went to touch her hair, which fell in soft waves down her shoulders.

"Your hair's down. You don't wear your hair down very often." He noted quietly as Clary walked behind them.

"Jace, I wear my hair down all the time." She told him.

He said no. "You wear your hair in those complicated braids. This is just…you look like one of the Fair Folk."

Her nose crinkled in disgust, her mouth twisting into a frown. "What a rude thing to say. You know how I feel about the fey. Especially Kaelie."

Clary remained quiet behind them as they bickered about the fey waitress at Taki's. "I have a question." Clary said from behind.

"Ask and be answered." Jace told her. The pad of his thumb moved over Eliza's hand in gentle patterns of circles.

"There are a lot of empty bedrooms for this to be a place of research." Clary said, not really a question, but housing one.

Eliza nodded. "All Institutes are required to offer a place to stay and safety to any Shadowhunter who may require or request such. Therefore, we have a residential wing. Not many stay all the time. Not like we do." Clary asked who the we included. "Myself, Jace, Alec and Izzy, Max and their parents and then Hodge." She asked who Max was. "You've met Izzy." Clary said yes, she had. "Alec is her older brother and Max is their younger brother. He's with their parents in Idris, our home country. It's not on any maps you would have seen, so don't fret over not knowing about it."

She glanced back. Clary looked like she was reeling over with the information, trying to sort it all out. "Have you been there, to Idris?" Clary asked.

Eliza stopped walking, jerking Jace backwards. Clary fumbled into Eliza. Eliza took a deep breath, composing herself. "We grew up there." Jace spoke for her. "Ironically not knowing each other until this past May." There was a way that he sounded that said nothing else would be spoken of that pertained neither his nor Eliza's childhoods.

After a few more quiet minutes, they reached the library. Church was lying in front of the arched doors. Jace used his bare foot to pet the cat but it traded him for Eliza. She reached down and rubbed between his knubby ears. "Hi, sweet Church." She cooed.

"So, are you guys the only people you know that are your own age?" Clary asked. Jace shrugged and said yeah, he guessed so. Clary asked if that was lonely for them.

"No. I've got all I could ever need." He squeezed Eliza's hand tightly.

Her heart wrenched. Maybe not for long, she thought bitterly. Jace let her hand go and opened the doors to the library. Clary walked in beside of Eliza.

Hodge was sitting at the desk in the middle of the room. He had a fond smile on his face. Eliza turned to see Clary admiring the room. "You've brought me a book lover." Hodge accounted. "One of you should have told me."

Jace stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, grinning at Hodge. "There's not been quite a lot of talking, Hodge, what between the demon killings and all. Our reading habits were back burner."

Hugin sat on Hodge's shoulder, watching the room with dark beady eyes. Hodge stood and Hugin stirred. "I am Hodge Starkweather." He told Clary. "And this is Hugo." He reached his hand out and Clary shook it, introducing herself.

Hugin stared at Eliza, the two connecting gazes. Eliza hated the bird and she hated his brother, Munin. Jonathan had trained them to be cruel, to peck and bite and rip at skin and clothing. Valentine had saved Jace's falcon a terrible fate.

"Jace and Eliza have told me that you killed a Ravener with your own hands? I'm impressed, to say the least." Hodge told Clary.

Clary shook her head at the statement. "I used Jace's phone."

Jace laughed. "My Sensor. She shoved my Sensor into its mouth. I'll be needing a new one."

Hodge said that there were extras in the weapons room. He turned back to Clary, a smile on his face. He asked how she had been creative enough to use the Sensor as a weapon. Before Clary could answer, a cold laugh cut through the room.

Alec was sitting in the red chair by the fireplace, his long limbs covering the piece of furniture. "Do you seriously buy that?" He asked. The other four people in the room stared at him. He was looking at Clary with contempt and hatred. A look that didn't grace his beautiful face often.

"Alec, what do you mean by that?" Hodge asked, an eyebrow quirking. "Are you insinuating that Clary didn't dispose of the Ravener in her apartment?

Alec said no. "Have you seen her? She's a mundane, for one. And a child one at that."

Eliza bit her tongue. She couldn't speak out against Alec, not as much as she wanted to. "I'll be sixteen on Sunday." Clary told him.

Not even two years between us, Eliza thought. How can we be so different?

"Isabelle is sixteen. Are you calling her a child as well?" Hodge asked.

Alec's face twisted into a dry form of anger. "My sister is a descendent from one of the greatest Shadowhunter lines. Meanwhile, this girl is a descendent from New Jersey."

Wrong. Clary hailed from a stained Shadowhunter line. One no one would ever want to be a part of. She wondered what Clary would say if she ever found out who she really was.

"I'm from Brooklyn." Clary finally said, her voice calm. "And I just killed a demon that attacked me and probably ate my mom but you're being a dick because I'm not a spoiled brat like you or your sister."

The room went silent. And then Jace laughed. Alec stood up. "Jace, are you really going to let her get away with that?" He asked.

"Oh, yes. Take it in." Jace said generously.

Alec's face tightened. Oh, Jace had really pissed him off. "Jace, you and I may be _parabatai_ but my patience with you is wearing incredibly thin."

Jace said the same went for him as well, how perfectly matched they were. "I watched the demon vanish, Alec. If she didn't kill it, who did?"

Alec suggested that maybe the demon stung itself, they were known for being stupid. "You're kidding me." Eliza spoke, her voice cool. Alec stared back at her, a stoic no coming from his mouth. "Are you trying to imply that the Ravener committed an accidental suicide? Alec, I stuck my hand in its mouth. I pulled the Sensor out. Clary killed it. Get over it."

She had never been so blasé with him before. Alec had always been kind to her and her in return. He pursed his lips, turning to Hodge. "She can't be here. Mundanes aren't allowed to be inside an Institute."

"Not according to the Law." Hodge said. "If under special- and this is quite special- circumstances, mundanes are allowed sanctuary. Clary and her mother were attacked by a Ravener. She is allowed inside."

Good one Hodge, Eliza thought.

Alec wasn't done. "We all know what Raveners are used for. They're machines for higher level demons and warlocks. Tell me, what would a Downworlder or a demon want from her and her mother?" His eyes were bright.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Clary asked hotly.

Eliza knew exactly what it meant. And she assumed Hodge did too. "Alec only means that it's highly unusual, almost unheard of actually, for a warlock or powerful demon to concern itself with a mundane household. Now, some humans do succeed in summoning demons by means of a warlock."

Clary shook her head, saying no. "Unless…our downstairs neighbor, she's a witch. The demons could have been after her and got mixed up."

Hodge looked at her questioningly. Jace shot it down. "She's a fake. A hedge witch, if you must. A non-threat to our issue at hand."

Hodge nodded, his mouth a frown. He stroked the raven on his shoulder as he thought to himself for a few moments. "Well, I believe we should notify the Clave." He decided. Jace said no immediately. Alec agreed with Hodge. "Jace, I apologize but it's what we must do. The Clave must be notified of the presence of a mundane who has knowledge of Shadowhunters. It is Law."

Jace took a deep breath. As if he were about to uncover some deep secret no one knew about. And he did. "What if she wasn't a mundane?" He asked quietly.

Clary said that was impossible. She was a mundane.

Eliza stared Jace down. What did he mean? What could he mean? "Start talking, Wayland." Her voice was unusually hard.

He didn't meet her eye. "That night, there were the Du'sien demons. Eliza went to distract and kill them. Except, Clary was too weak to run and there was another demon I didn't see so…" "So?", coaxed Eliza "So I put a _mendelin_ rune on her arm."

Eliza's vision turned red. She heard Hodge shout something at Jace. But he was looking at her. "You idiot." She groaned. "You complete moron! She could have died!"

Hodge sided with her. "You know the Law, Jace. What it says about Marking mundanes."

Jace said he did. "Clary, show them your arm. Show Eliza."

Eliza moved to stand next to Clary. The girl held her arm up. Eliza saw it, not exactly clear as day. But it was there. Three overlapping circles on the inside of her arm. A rune.

"She wasn't hurt by it." Jace said quietly.

"That is not the point." Hodge seethed. "She could have become a Forsaken."

Jace said that she didn't. Which meant she had to have Clave blood. Shadowhunter blood. Eliza's vision was dotted with red. All she could think about was how Jace could have easily turned her sister into a monster. Or killed her.

Clary said there was no way that was true. Jace told her that she did, that she had to, or the Mark would have killed her.

"Eliza." Hodge's voice ran clear in her head. She turned her sights to him. "What do you have to say about all of this?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, standing up straighter. "I think that Jace is a complete idiot who risked Clary's life simply on the fact that she has a little more than a touch of the Sight." Hodge asked what she thought of the possibility that Clary had Shadowhunter blood. "I won't write it off as impossible. Anything can happen."

"Clary's mother could have been in exile from our world. That gives the possibility of unnatural enemies." Jace offered.

He was partly correct. Not that he needed to know.

"There was no way my mother was like all of you." Clary wrote it off immediately.

Eliza wanted to laugh at her. She would be surprised about her mother. What she had done.

"And your father? Where is he?" Jace asked her.

Eliza did wonder what lie Jocelyn had made up to tell Clary. There was no way Clary knew the truth. Jocelyn would have done anything to prevent Clary from knowing the truth. "He's dead." Clary said simply. "He died before I was born. Wrapped his car around a tree in Albany."

 _More like alive and in the city, trying to kill anything that opposes him_.

"Then, it could be possible." Alec interluded. "Her father could have had the Angel's blood and her mother have been a mundane. We all know the Law on relationships between Shadowhunters and mundanes."

"It seems the most likely." Eliza agreed with him. "It explains why Clary has no idea about the Shadow World. And if her father is dead and the Clave didn't know how to find her mother, it also explains why the Clave never came for her." Clary said that her mother would have told her that. She would have had to have. Eliza gave her a sympathetic look. "No, she wouldn't. Everyone has secrets. Some more than others. Perhaps that was hers."

Clary went quiet. Jace moved to stand beside Eliza. He nudged her with his elbow and leaned close to her. "You didn't have to say that about me." He said quietly.

She nodded once. "Yes, I did." She told him. "Sometimes you need to be put in your place. Especially if you're going to go around putting the Marks of the Covenant on mundanes."

He pulled a face. She supposed he had never expected her to oppose him. Eliza glanced back at the scene behind them. Clary was using the rotary phone to call someone.

"Liz." Jace sighed. He opened his mouth to say something else, but she cut him off.

"Jonathan." Her quiet voice was only a whisper, but it was angry. "You could have _killed_ her. Or turned her into a Forsaken. I know you were trying to help her and that you achieved that goal, but actions have consequences, so I need you to think about those. Please."

The phone dropped back onto the receiver. Eliza looked back at Clary. Her sister's hands were shaking. "So, that must have been a no." Jace observed loudly.

Hodge's face was disapproving. "If the three of you would kindly leave, I'd like to speak with Clary alone."

Oh, there was no way she was leaving Clary alone with him. Jace went to leave, joining Alec by the door. He looked back at Eliza expectantly. "I'm going to stay with Clary. I think she'll need a familiar face." She wasn't leaving Clary alone with a traitor like Hodge. And she needed to know what Clary wasn't telling.

"Very well. Eliza, you can stay behind." Hodge permitted.

Jace's mouth went slack. "Excuse me." He huffed. "I found her. I saved her life. Why don't I get to stay?"

"Jace." Eliza's tone was warning. _Don't argue._

Alec sniggered behind Jace. His hand was on Jace's shoulder, starting to turn him around. "See Jace, not everyone wants you around all the time. Not even Eliza." Jace grimaced and followed Alec from the library, muttering that they would be in the weapons room.

"Let's sit." Eliza told Clary. She led Clary to the couch and they both sat. Clary seemed to ease at the comfort of the furniture. Eliza plucked a kerchief from the desk and handed it to Clary. "Here. It's all right to cry. You've had a very hard day."

Clary shook her head. "No. I don't cry. It doesn't mean anything, I promise."

Eliza frowned at her. Eliza had really never cried. Not since she was a child, at least. But she knew that crying was perfectly all right. Hodge pulled the chair from behind the desk in front of the couch.

"Clary, would you like anything? Perhaps a nice hot tea?" Hodge offered.

She said no, she didn't want tea. He offered her water and she said no again. "All I would like is to find my mom. And then kill whoever took her."

"I'm afraid we don't have any bitter revenge, my dear." Hodge cracked a smile.

Eliza held her tongue. _You may not have any, but I have plenty._

Clary sighed, asking what she was supposed to do. She didn't have anywhere to go. "Well, it's always a nice start to tell us exactly what happened." Hodge said, handing her his own handkerchief and replacing the one Eliza had given her. "Had you ever seen a demon before the Ravener in your home?"

Eliza said no for her. "She saw us kill the Eidolon in Pandemonium."

Hodge smiled. "Of course. I forgot about that little incident. So that was the first time you had ever interacted with a demon or a Downworlder?" Clary said no. "Your mother never mentioned anything at all about any of this? Or took a peculiar interest in myths?"

She shook her head furiously. "My mom was the most normal person in the world. She wouldn't even let me watch Disney Channel. Is there any way that is all one awful mix-up? A terrible mistake?"

"No, I'm afraid not. You are not an ordinary mundane. You saw the Ravener for what it was, and you heard it when it spoke to you." Hodge told her.

Clary closed her eyes tightly. Eliza put a comforting hand on top of Clary's own. "It's fine. You're perfectly safe here."

When Clary opened her eyes, they were prickled with tears. "It wanted to eat me. But it said it wasn't supposed to. And it said something about a Valentine or-."

Eliza jerked away from Clary so fast she almost hit her with her hand by accident. Hodge went stock still, Hugin flying away from his sudden movements. " _It said what?_ " Hodge asked quietly.

Eliza saw him sneak a glance in her direction, but she kept her eyes averted. "The demon in Pandemonium said the same thing. Something about knowing where Valentine was…" Clary continued. "Does that mean anything?"

Hodge said yes. Valentine was a name most knew in their world. "He was a Shadowhunter."

"Was?" Clary questioned.

Eliza licked her bottom lip. She looked at Clary with dark eyes. "Yes. Was. He's been dead for almost fifteen years." She had to work hard to keep her hands from shaking, her voice from wavering. Clary asked if there was any way if could be someone with the same name. "No. It's a cursed name now." Eliza said, her voice thick.

"Although, someone could be using his name to send a message." Hodge suggested. He stood up and moved to his desk. "This seems to be the time to do so. With the Accords coming up."

Eliza's mouth had a sour feeling to it. Clary asked what the Accords were. "Our peace negotiations with the Downworlders." Clary, he realized, had no idea who the Downworlders were. "Forgive me, I must be confusing you." Hodge apologized. "The Downworlders are beings such as the Night Children-vampires-, the Moon Children-werewolves-, the Fair Folk-faeries- and Lilith's children-the warlocks. And we, the Shadowhunters, are the Nephilim. We came to be over a thousand years ago when our world was plagued by demons. A warlock summoned an angel, Raziel. He gave his blood and mixed it with the blood of men. Those who consumed the blood became Shadowhunters and the blood passed down, always dominate. The cup from which they drank became known as the Mortal Cup, from which it was always possible to create more Shadowhunters."

"Was? What do you mean when you say was? Is it lost?" Clary asked.

Eliza cleared her throat. "In a way, yes." She said. "Valentine destroyed the Mortal Cup before he died. He set the manor on fire, killing himself and his wife and their son. Just like his name, the land is cursed." Clary asked if the land and the name were really cursed. "Curses are uncommon, but I wouldn't put it past the Clave. My- Valentine committed the greatest sin. He killed fellow Shadowhunters, he and his group, the Circle, they called themselves. Valentine and the Circle murdered dozens of Nephilim and hundreds of Downworlders just before the last signing of the Accords."

"But why would he turn on everyone? Why would he kill so many people?" Clary asked.

Eliza asked herself the same question. Though, she knew the answer and much more. She thought of the way her father's eyes darkened whenever he talked about the Downworlders, how his voice went mad. "He hated them. He disapproved of the Accords because of his feelings towards the Downworlders. He saw them the same way we all see demons. As invaders, unnatural and impure. It's not the way that Shadowhunters, especially the Clave, sees Downworlders as allies. We need them to fully defeat the demons." Eliza continued to explain. She couldn't imagine having to live without Magnus. He was her saving grace, her only solace. He would be the only one still with her when everything was over.

Hodge continued for her, saying that because of Valentine, the Accords were made possible. The Downworlders saw Shadowhunters turn against their brethren and defend the Downworlders, giving them hope for a better future. "I shall send a message to the Clave and the Silent Brothers, alerting them to the situation. We will go from there."

Clary wrung her hands in her lap. Eliza asked if something was wrong, other than the obvious. "I want to go home. I need to see if there's anything left, and I need clothes."

Hodge gave Eliza a wayward look. She already knew what he was asking of her. "I suppose," Hodge started, "but only if Eliza or Jace escort you there. It will be much safer with at least one of them."

Clary looked at Eliza, expectant and a little unsure. "Come." She stood, holding her hand out to Clary. "We'll go ask Jace. He might be in a mood, though."

Hodge chuckled lightly. "It's you asking, my dear Eliza. He won't say no."

Her cheeks tinted. Clary stood and walked with her out of the library. As the door closed, Clary turned to Eliza. "Can I ask you some questions?" Eliza nodded, not saying anything. "Are you and Jace dating?"

Eliza stopped dead in her tracks. "Why would you ask that?" She asked quietly before beginning to move again.

Clary smiled knowingly. "The way you two look at each other. You blush when his name comes up. And you guys hold hands. A lot."

A dark red crept up Eliza's neck. "It's complicated. Really complicated."

Clary said that was all that mattered. "Okay, one more." Eliza glanced at her, telling her to ask. "How do you know so much about Valentine?"

Eliza's eye twitched. She looked at Clary. "My uncle, on my mother's side. His name was Henry Ravenscar. He died because of Valentine. My mother always told my brother and I about what occurred because of Valentine. I used to have terrible nightmares about it." She said it slowly, ensuring that Clary believed the clever lie. But she still looked stunned. "Are those the only questions you have?"

Clary stayed silent all the way to the weapons room. Eliza opened the door.

 _Little dove, get your affairs in order. It's time._

He knew she was done. He knew her better than she knew herself. Eliza walked Clary into the weapons room. Alec and Jace were standing at the table, creating new seraph blades.

"There's been a change of plans. Jace, you're escorting Clary back to her apartment to go through her things."

Clary's eyes widened. "You aren't going?"

She said no. "I have somewhere to be. But Jace is going to take exceptional care of you." She said with a slight smile.

Jace put down his seraph blade. "Where are you going?" He asked her.

She asked him to go into the hall with her for a moment. He followed her out, leaving the door cracked open just a smidge. "All this talk of Valentine has me feeling weird. I told you about what he did to my family, to my mother. I'm just going to walk around the city for a while and try to breathe. I just need to be alone for a while."

Jace frowned at her, but said nothing to counter her plans. "I'd better get in there before they start hitting each other." She pulled on his hand, pulling him to her. She kissed him, deeply because she knew it would be the last time. The kiss lasted only a few seconds until he pulled away. "I love you." He told her.

She couldn't help but smile. She dropped his hand, letting him walk back to the door. "Jace." She called softly. He half turned, looking at her. "Take care of Clary. And yourself. Don't do anything reckless."

He told her that reckless was his middle name before going back into the weapons room.

She didn't let herself cry as she stole away to her room.

* * *

Her hands shook as she wrote the letter that was going to be her downfall. Once she gave this to him, he would tell Alec and Izzy and she'd lose the only friends she had ever had. She may even lose Clary. Not that she would remember them anyways.

Soon, everything she had learned, everything she knew, was going to be gone. She wouldn't know Alec or Izzy or even Clary. She wouldn't know Jace. She silently told herself that it was all for the better. It was to protect them, to protect the world.

Her tears stained the paper as her shaky script glided over the page. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand as she continued to write. She couldn't tell him everything, no, there were some things that had to stay buried, including her brother. At least, that's what people needed to think.

 _Jace,_

 _By the time you get this, I'll be gone. No, stop making that face. You know the one I'm talking about. The worried, upset one. I'm not dead. I'm just…gone. Which, once you get to the end of this letter, I won't matter to you anymore. But first, I'm going to tell you a story. My story._

 _My name is Eliza Seraphina Morgenstern, born to Valentine & Jocelyn Morgenstern. I had a twin brother named Jonathan, who died in a house fire along with my grandparents. My father survived. He raised me secretly in a cottage owned by one of his most loyal followers, Marisol Hardtower. When I came of age, when he thought I was ready, he gave me his most important task. A search and rescue for his most prized possession: the Mortal Cup. He had sources saying it was in New York and he couldn't go, I mean, people thought he was dead. So, he sent me instead. He sent me to New York, telling me to find the Cup, no matter what._

 _He didn't know I had other plans. I hated him. I despised my father with all my being. I was going to betray him, use the Cup against him once I had it. I was going to turn him to the Clave and accept whatever punishment I received._

 _I didn't expect what happened once I got to the city. I didn't expect to make friends, to be accepted. I certainly didn't expect for someone to make me feel so breathless, so happy, so…good. And I was happy. I forgot about the Cup. But I never forgot the lies._

 _Then the whispers started. Demons here and there saying that Valentine was back, that he was in the city. And I knew, I knew I didn't have time. I was extremely lucky to have made an unlikely friend in the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Magnus Bane. Once I was sure my father was in the city, I decided to do the only thing I could to stop him. I had to erase myself, make myself disappear._

 _I knew once the truth came out, my friends, you, they would never want to see my again. And I was okay with that, deep down, because it was going to save their world from the most dangerous man._

 _Jace, I'm sorry. I'm not who you think I am. I'm the bad guy._

 _I told you I was a Starkweather, I told you that I was good. But I had to lie._

 _I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone. He wasn't supposed to come here, he was supposed to stay away, to wait for me. And I was going to turn the Cup over to the Clave, turn my father over to them, and live happily with whatever punishment I got._

 _I'm sorry. Please understand that. I will never forgive myself for any of this. For lying to you, betraying Alec and Izzy, taking advantage of your trust. If you never forgive me, I'll be fine with that._

 _I know how hard it was for you to open yourself up to me, to trust me. I'm sorry I had to lie to you. I know how badly you wanted me to be the good guy._

 _There are good people in the world. You just have to find them._

 _I'm doing all of this for you, to protect you. To keep you safe from him. He would hurt you and I can't let that happen. Not to you or Izzy or Alec or even Clary. I'm going to protect all of you, even if it means losing myself, losing everything._

 _Eliza_

She bit down on her lip as she folded the letter. She shrugged on her jacket. She pocketed the letter and took one last look around the room she had been calling hers since May. She frowned, shaking the thought away.

She left the room, closing the door quietly. She walked down the hall to Jace's room, slipping the letter under his door. He was gone, out with Clary to go through her things in her ravaged apartment. He wouldn't find the letter until it was too late, not until she wasn't even herself anymore.

She moved through the Institute quickly, walking out into the world. She hailed a cab, telling the drive Magnus' address. The ride took too long, longer than she wanted. She arrived at his place, loudly slamming the door to announce her arrival.

"Get it over with." She told him, flopping down on the couch. Chairman Meow made his way into her lap, nuzzling against her stomach.

Magnus entered the living room, an annoyed look on his face, his cat eyes narrowed. "You know, you don't have to do this. You could go to the Conclave." He said, his face softening at her defeated look.

Her eyes were puffed from crying, her nose red from sniffles. "No. They won't find him. This way…he'll never see it coming. Please, get it over with. I don't want to feel this way any longer."

Magnus sat on the coffee table in front of her, placing his hands on the sides of her head. "You're ready?" She nodded in agreement. "Your name is Eliza Starkweather. You are the daughter of Oskar and Seraphina Starkweather, the younger sister of Jonathan Starkweather and third cousin twice removed of Hodge Starkweather. On the night of April twentieth of this year, your parents and brother perished in a terrible fire that destroyed your home. You were sent to the New York Institute to be with your cousin. You know nothing about the Mortal Cup and you've never met your mother or your sister. As far as you know, Valentine should be dead."

She licked her bottom lip. "Yes." She murmured. He told her how brave she was, how good she was.

Her eyes closed at the soothing tone of his voice and she slumped back. Magnus mumbled a few words in a demon language and picked her up, carrying her to the back bedroom. He laid her on the bed, covering her with the duvet. "Sleep well, little dove. There's a storm coming, and you'll need your strength."


	6. Chapter 6

_To: The Shadowhunters of the New York Institute_

 _From: Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn_

 _Young Nephilim,_

 _Your angelic minds are probably twisting and turning, trying to come up with possibilities as to why the High Warlock of Brooklyn is sending you a letter. The contents of this letter concern Miss Eliza S. Morgenstern, or as you know her: Eliza Starkweather._

 _Mr. Wayland, I realize that our dear Eliza has written you her own letter, detailing the course of her actions and her deceits. And this, my young Shadowhunters is why I write to you._

 _I have been alive over four hundred years. I have loved many a people, from vampires to werewolves. I once found myself caring for a young Shadowhunter boy in London who fancied himself cursed a few hundred years ago. But I do not believe I have ever cared for someone the way I do my dear Eliza. I know what you all must be thinking, and I can assure you to the highest degree that I do not see myself in love with Eliza Morgenstern. I care for her the way one cares for a younger sister, or nay I say, even a daughter._

 _If you have read her letter, then you know exactly what is going on. If you do not, I shall catch you up. Eliza has been lying for several months, claiming to be a young Shadowhunter by the name of Starkweather. You will soon find that this story is a lie. Eliza has lived with her monstrous progenitor, Valentine Morgenstern since the tragic fire. He sent her here to procure the Mortal Cup for him. Something she had no intention of ever doing. When Eliza came to me, she was in distress. She needed the Mortal Cup, but to hand it over to the Clave and to turn her father in and have him in the hands of justice for good. She only ever wanted him in the deepest cell that the Silent Brothers could provide._

 _That is not all I have to say. I know of the whispers that say Valentine Morgenstern has risen from the dead and he is alive and in New York. I have on good authority (by this, I mean Eliza) that these rumors are true. He has returned._

 _Eliza has information on the whereabouts of the Mortal Cup. She found her mother. She has information that she is not willing to hand over. But more importantly to her, she has people she is unwilling to hand over to Valentine. People she deeply cares about and she knows that he would hurt if it meant she told him what she knew of the Cup. And Eliza recognized that she would give him whatever he wanted if it meant keeping those people safe._

 _Those people are you, young Shadowhunters. Yes, I do mean you: Alexander Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood, Clarissa Fray and especially you, Jace Wayland._

 _We did the only thing we could to keep her safe and to keep the four of you safe. I took her memories, I put a powerful block on her mind. As far as Eliza knows, the story she told you is true. She was raised as Eliza Starkweather in Alicante until this past April when her family perished unexpectedly in a house fire. She does not know her father is truly alive or even that he is her father, only that the demons whisper of his return. She does not harbor any information on the Mortal Cup. This also means that I had to take some of her better memories. Mr. Wayland, I believe you know what I'm talking about._

 _Heed my warning children of the Angel: The block on our dear Eliza's mind is an unusually powerful one. I had to take years and years of information and lock it away, creating an entirely new life. She must break it on her own. Eliza must come to the truth on her own. You are to, under no circumstances whatsoever, to try and unravel this block. Either I do it, or she does it._

 _I have one more thing to say and then this letter will be over. Eliza is one of the kindest and most selfless Shadowhunters I have ever encountered. Please keep this in mind when she awakens. She erased everything, she became an entirely different person because of the four of you. To keep you safe from her father. I cannot imagine she would have done so otherwise._

 _Eliza may be a liar, but she is a good person. She lied to do right by our world. I know for fact that she never meant to hurt any of you. Do not hold her lies against her. She loves all of you, more than you could ever imagine. She is good, through and through._

 _Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn_

The letter had just appeared in front of Alec in the training room. A wave of nausea had washed over him as his eyes swam over the pages. The warlock's handwriting was messy and hurried.

Alec wasn't quite sure what to do with the information. Jace was still out with the mundane girl.

He went to Izzy first. Let her eyes wander over the page, watching his baby sister's eyes widen at the revelation of their close friend. Together, they went to Hodge. Alec carefully handed him the letter.

Their tutor took several minutes to read the letter and then reread it.

"This is not good. Not good at all." Hodge murmured. He handed the letter back to Alec. "He will not be pleased at all. In a rage, I believe."

Alec raised his eyebrows. "Are you talking about Jace?" He asked. He didn't even want to imagine how his _parabatai_ would react to the news.

Hodge looked at him, eyes wide. "Yes. Yes, of course." He mumbled. "Thank you, Alec. For bringing this to my attention. What do you believe we should do? Turn her to the Clave?"

Alec's bright blue eyes widened. "No. Angel no. She doesn't have anything they would want. Like the letter says, that information is gone. She's safe here. And if it's true, if Valentine is back, this is the only place Eliza is safe. I don't think the Clave would be too kind to her." Alec told his tutor.

Hodge nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Alec. Izzy, are you preparing dinner tonight?" Izzy said yes. "Good. Good. I think I may need a moment to myself. Please excuse yourselves."

Alec grabbed his sister by the wrist and led her from the library.

"Jace is gonna be so pissed." Izzy whispered to him.

Alec stopped, going stock still. _Jace_. He didn't even want to think about that at the moment.

* * *

She woke up in her bed. She didn't even remember going to sleep. Dull sunlight streamed through the window. It had to be late in the afternoon. Had she taken a _nap_?

She got up and got ready, showering and brushing her teeth.

She brushed her hair, leaving it wet down her shoulders and back. She changed into jeans and a light sweater, leaving her feet only in socks.

The knock on her door disturbed her. She padded over to the dark wooden door and swung it open. Jace stood in front of her, his tawny eyes heavy.

"Jace? You're back." She observed lightly.

She noticed a thick piece of paper stuck in his pocket but decided not to ask. If he wanted her to know, he'd tell her.

"I just came to check on you. To see how you were." He said thickly. She cocked an eyebrow inquisitively. "Before I left earlier, you seemed a little off. And I took a little longer than I thought I would."

She vaguely remembered speaking to him before he left with Clary to go to her apartment. She had felt unusually sluggish. "Oh. Yes. I think that all the running around the past few days had taken its toll on me. I feel quite a bit better now, thank you." There was an awkward silence between the two of them that felt heavy on her chest. "Well, I was just heading down to dinner if you'd like to walk with me." She suggested.

He nodded and waited for her to step out of her room, shutting the door softly. "Izzy's making some abomination of a soup. The smell suggests a scent of what Hell might smell like."

Her nose crinkled at the thought of Isabelle making a soup. "I hope it's ruined and we have to order in." She said quietly. Jace cracked a smile at her remark. "How did things go? Did you find anything else that could be helpful?"

Jace shrugged as a first response. "The hedge witch was hiding a Five-Dimensional Door in her apartment. And the men who killed my father are working for Valentine."

She stopped, her legs feeling as if they were filled with lead. Her mouth was open, her green eyes wide. "So, it's true? He's back? He's alive?" She whispered.

Jace bit down on his tongue. "So it seems." He told her. "I brought Clary and her mundane friend back to the Institute with me. The men were inquisitive about her, and not in a good way."

"And you've told Hodge? About the men killing your father?" She asked him. Her voice was as soft as the flap of a butterfly's wings.

He said no sharply. "Don't say anything to him about it, please." She said of course. "Hodge is in the library with Clary. He asked me to bring you to him."

They rounded the corner and arrived at the library. Hodge was standing, a large leather book in his hands. Clary was sitting on the couch.

"Oh, Eliza! Right on time." Hodge smiled at her tightly. Clary turning, giving her a softer smile. "How are you feeling? You've been asleep for quite a while."

Eliza let Jace trail behind her. "I feel fine, thank you." She sat down next to Clary. "Hi, Clary. How are you holding up? Jace filled me in a little, if that's alright with you."

Clary nodded, saying that was fine. "I've been better, I think."

Hodge cleared his throat. "There's something we need to discuss." He tapped his fingers on the binding of the book. "The Circle is rising once more. Jace has made that clear with the names he gave me earlier."

"You haven't said what the Circle is." Clary told him.

Hodge said no, he hadn't. And he began reading from the book. " _I hereby render unconditional obedience to the Circle and its principles. I will be ready to risk my life at any time for the Circle, to preserve the purity of the bloodlines of Idris, and for the mortal world with whose safety we are charged._ "

Eliza tightened her jaw as Jace asked what Hodge had just read. "That," Hodge sighed, "was the oath of loyalty for the Circle of Raziel, formed twenty years ago."

Her mouth felt sour, as if she had eaten a rotten egg or drank soured milk. The Circle had killed her Uncle Henry. She could still remember his caramel colored eyes, crinkling around the edges as he chased her through the gardens of the Starkweather manor when she was much younger.

"So, the Circle is the Shadowhunter version of a fascist group." Clary observed.

Eliza said possibly. Hodge eyed her carefully, a little too intently for her liking. "The Circle of Raziel was a group of Shadowhunters, led by Valentine Morgenstern. Their objective was to rid the world of all the Downworlders."

Hodge said she was right. "Valentine sought to make the world more 'pure'. The Accords must be signed every fifteen years. Downworlders go to Idris to sign them. The Circle planned to ambush the Downworlders at the signing of the Accords and slaughter them all. They intended to win the war they were starting." Jace said that he wasn't aware of Valentine's fan club having an official name. "Yes. Most now do not. Almost everything that pertains to the Circle has been burned by the Clave. They are an embarrassment to the name of Shadowhunters. And I do hate to say that I helped write this oath and I was a member of the Circle." He looked at Clary. "As was your mother, among many others."

Clary jumped up from her seat. "She never would have joined a group like that!" She shouted at Hodge. "My mother would have never been a part of that hate group!"

"Yes, well, my mother never imagined her brother would join such a group, but he did." Eliza told Clary, her voice darkened. "And he died because of Valentine."

Hodge said Clary's mother would have and she had been a part of the Circle of Raziel. Clary's face was red with anger, asking why her mother would have had a reason to join the Circle. "Your mother was Valentine's wife."

The silence lasted more than a few moments. And then Clary shouted again. She swore that her mother didn't have an ex-husband, only her dead husband. And then she decided she wanted to hear no more.

"Clary, please sit down." Hodge said, his voice soft and full of kindness. Clary's mouth opened to speak but no words came out. "Your mother abandoned the Circle and Valentine's views. Several others did as well, Lucian Greymark being one of the first, you know him as your mother's friend Luke Garroway. Valentine felt betrayed by Lucian, who had been his best friend. And then Michael Wayland." He glanced at Jace. "But so many stayed behind. Pangborn and Blackwell. The Lightwoods."

Jace's tawny eyes widened. "Surely you don't mean…"

Hodge nodded solemnly. "Robert and Maryse, yes. Even I stayed loyal. We were afraid of what Valentine would do if we left. But after the Uprising, we stayed behind, and we cooperated with the Clave. We told them everything we knew, and they gave us clemency. The curse that binds me to the Institute, that was the Clave. Punishment for my alliance with Valentine and the Circle."

"Why weren't the Lightwoods punished?" Clary asked him.

"They were married, and they had a child, Alec. We were all banished here as punishment. And though the Lightwoods may go to our Glass City on official business and stay for short times, I will never again see Alicante."

At the mention of the Glass City, an image burst into Eliza's mind. The city of Alicante, nestled in a valley, divided by a river. Shimmers of golden buildings rang in her mind. She could almost feel her feet sinking into the evergreen grass of the garden behind her family home, her elder brother laughing behind her as he chased her. The spires of the city could be seen from their home.

" _Sed lex dura lex_." Jace mumbled: The Law is hard, but it is the Law.

Clary's eyes were watery. "Why didn't you say something before? About my mother?"

Hodge looked at her sadly. "You called her Jocelyn Fray. I knew her when she was Jocelyn Fairchild, wife of Valentine."

Clary and Jace looked at her. The look on Clary's face was stun; the look on Jace's was unreadable to her.

Eliza peered at her. "It's all right to be upset. Your world is turning upside down."

"I sent for the Silent Brothers this morning. And once the Clave finds out that Valentine has returned and once again seeks out the Mortal Cup, there will be ultimate chaos." Hodge reported to them.

"He's building an army." Eliza's voice was thin, like she almost didn't want to believe it. "Valentine. He's going to use the Cup to build an army of Shadowhunters loyal to him and only him."

The door to the library burst open and Izzy walked in, her inky black hair falling around her face in tendrils. She held a cooking spoon in her hands. "Dinner's ready!" Her dark brown eyes were wide. "Oh. Am I interrupting?" She asked.

Both Jace and Hodge went pale in the face. Eliza stood up, an uneasy look on her face. "Jace says you made soup. I'm sure it's going to be delicious." The lie rolled off her tongue easily, her voice kind and assuring.

Izzy smiled crookedly. "I'm sure it would have been. But I threw it out and ordered Chinese."

Jace was up immediately. "Absolutely famished. Great job, Iz. Is there mu shu pork? I love some mu shu pork."

Izzy said yes, it was in the kitchen.

"Did you happen to order wanton soup?" Eliza asked her.

Jace walked by Izzy, ruffling her hair. Hodge followed, patting her softly on the shoulder. Izzy rolled her eyes at them and looked back at Eliza. "With a healthy side of fried rice and orange chicken." Izzy reported.

"A true angel." Eliza sighed.

* * *

Izzy rolled her eyes again and the three girls set off to the kitchen.

The dining table was full of life. Alec and Izzy fighting over noodles, Jace sneaking bits of pork from Alec's plate as he argued with his sister, Hodge eating peacefully.

The two new additions, Eliza liked to watch them as she fed Church bits of her chicken. Simon stared intently at Isabelle, his eyes adoring. Clary tossed her noodles around on her plates.

"It's romantic, if you think about it." Isabelle sighed, a few tapioca pearls getting jammed in her straw. Simon sat straighter, asking what she was talking about. "Everything with Clary's mom and Valentine, of course." Her dark eyes got that dreamy look in them. "She was the first thing he went looking for when he came back. He obviously wants to patch things up."

Eliza stared at Izzy, an incredulous look on her face. Alec spoke before she got the chance to. He was always deadpan with his sister, never leaving much to the imagination with her. "Iz. I really doubt that he wants to patch things up with her. He sent a Ravener after her."

Jace agreed with him. "I would have sent flowers and candy, then an apology letter. And if that didn't work, then I'd send the demon in."

Eliza rolled her eyes at his statement. Of course Jace would say something so…Jace.

"Well, we don't know that he didn't send her all those things." Izzy stated.

Eliza put her fork down loudly. "You're being a little insensitive, Isabelle." Her green eyes were dark. "Clary's mother was just abducted by Valentine and you're making light of the situation by romanticizing it." Izzy clamped her mouth shut. "We also shouldn't give off false hope. Valentine Morgenstern is a terrible person. He brought tragedy and destruction on our world and he flooded the streets of the Glass City with blood. He is the reason my parents didn't want to be Shadowhunters any longer. But yes, let's imagine that he's sent Clary's mother flowers and candy and letters claiming apology and undying love."

Izzy looked away from the table entirely. Eliza's eyes were dark, and she looked down at her food.

"What sort of army would he be building?" Clary asked, breaking the tense silence.

When Eliza looked back up, her eyes were green again. "Children, most likely." Hodge answered. "The Cup would only turn mundane children into Shadowhunters. If used on adults, it wouldn't work, or they would die. And once the children are old enough, he would use them to attack the Clave and finish what he started fifteen years ago." Alec asked how Hodge knew that Valentine would do that. "That was his plan all along. That was his ideal force to defend the Shadow World."

Izzy's face went pale. "He wanted to kill children." Her voice was soft and quiet, like she wasn't sure of the gravity of the situation.

"A sacrifice he was more than willing to make. He would have sacrificed his own children, his own son, his own daughter, if he had to." Hodge said.

"Excuse me." Eliza called to Hodge. "He had children?"

Hodge's mouth puckered. "No. I'm being theoretical." He told her plainly. "According to Valentine, we had always made sure the world was safe for the mundanes and it was time for them to repay us. Even if it meant the sacrifice of their children."

Jace's face was flushed. Clary looked as if she were going to be sick.

"Valentine was nothing more than a man gone insane." Eliza spoke. "He sought to purify the world, but with slaughter."

Hodge's hands shook as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. "When Valentine's family home, the Fairchild manor, was destroyed, it burned to the ground. Everyone assumed the plausible: Valentine had burned and the Cup with him to escape the hands of the Clave. They found his bones in the ashes of the ruins." Hodge explained to them. "The Clave will want to find the Cup. They will most want to find it before Valentine does."

Jace pushed his food away and crossed his arms over the table. "Okay. First things first: we find Clary's mom. If we find her, we find the Cup."

Hodge said no immediately. " _We_ are not going to the do anything. _I'm_ going to write to the Clave and explain the situation. And _you_ are going to do nothing. This matter shall be left to experienced and skilled Shadowhunters." Jace argued that he was experienced and skilled, so he should be doing something, anything. "Jace, you are a child." Hodge told him. "There is nothing you can do."

Alec agreed with Hodge. He had a sympathetic look for Jace as he looked at his _parabatai_. "Jace you're one of the best Shadowhunters of our age, maybe the best if Eliza will let you take the title. But Valentine is dangerous. He's good at what he does. He-."

Eliza cut into the conversation. "Valentine Morgenstern is one of the best Shadowhunters that has ever lived. My parents told me. My father said that Valentine had been charismatic and extremely skilled. It took an army of Shadowhunters and Downworlders to bring him to his knees. I wholeheartedly agree with Hodge on this. It's too dangerous for any of us to do anything about."

Hodge beamed at her like she was his pride and joy. "And it isn't like you've done nothing. We wouldn't have this information without you, Jace. I shall write to the Clave tonight. They could have an army of Shadowhunters here by tomorrow night."

Jace mumbled that he didn't like this. He wanted to do more. Alec turned to him, blue eyes fiery. "You want to do more?" Alec echoed his words. "Shut up. That's more than enough."

"And what about my mom?" Clary's voice was fierce. "Valentine has her right now. She can't wait."

Eliza looked away from the table. Clary's mother couldn't wait. She remembered her mother whenever she got that faraway look in her eyes, remembering her younger brother. Eliza hated the story. The way her mother told it, Eliza could perfectly envision everything in her mind.

Henry Ravenscar had been impressionable and easily persuaded. His older sister Seraphina was quiet and reserved, everything he wasn't. Valentine approached Henry and asked for his membership to the Circle. Henry was in awe that Valentine had approached him, gone to him. All Henry had to do was say yes. And he did. To keep an eye on him, Seraphina had joined the Circle as well, dragging her husband in with her. Valentine's illusions and lies hadn't fooled them, but he had sucked Henry right in.

Before the Uprising, Seraphina had tried to get Henry to leave the Circle, but he wouldn't do it. So, Seraphina and Oskar left without him. Henry died during the Uprising, trying to defend Valentine as he ran away from the fight.

"We know where to look." Jace's voice cut through her thoughts.

"We do?" Hodge asked, interest piqued.

Jace nodded. "Everything we could want to possibly know is inside Clary's head. I say we give the Silent Brothers a call. They can retrieve Clary's memories."

Izzy's nose crinkled. "You hate them, Jace."

Eliza had never encountered a Silent Brother and she didn't think that she wanted to. Her brother had met one while in London, Brother Zachariah. He told her in his letters about how eerie he had felt around the Silent Brother. She wasn't sure she wanted to feel that way at all.

"I do not. They give me the creeps." Jace countered Izzy.

Clary asked who the Silent Brothers really were. "Our archivists." Hodge told her. His voice was tight and a little weary. "They Mark themselves with our most powerful runes. The runes do, in fact, warp their bodies. But the Silent Brothers have powerful minds."

"They poke through your mind, go through every thought you've ever had." Eliza said. "If my brother hadn't been so set on being the best warrior the Nephilim had ever seen, he would have been a Silent Brother. They enthralled him."

"Wait. You want to give me to a bunch of self-mutilating librarians, so they can go through my mind?" Clary asked.

Jace shrugged. "To help you. We need to know what you know. Even if you don't know you know it. Besides, you should want to know about who you really are." He looked pointedly at Eliza.

Clary looked meekly at him. "I don't know." She said quietly.

He said he'd go with her. "I think that's enough." Simon told Jace.

Alec's eyes slid over to Simon, looking as if he had just realized he was there.

Eliza stood up, everyone looking at her. "Are you alright?" Jace asked, beginning to stand. "You don't look well."

Her green eyes narrowed. "Because every girl wants to hear that, thank you." She snapped at him. She looked at Hodge, her eyes a little softer. "I'm going to go lie down." She turned to Izzy, a sweet look on her face. "Dinner was lovely, Isabelle. Thank you." Izzy nodded once, a half smile on her face.

Eliza excused herself from the table and left the room in a hurry. She hurried to her room, slamming the door behind her.

She sat down on her bed, her fingers tight around the blanket. She barely heard the door open and close.

"Liz, you okay?" Alec's voice was quiet, the way Church was when he snuck into her room to sleep at night.

She looked over at Alec. His black hair fell in his face slightly, but not enough to cover his bright blue eyes. Alec was a hairsbreadth taller than Jace, but a whole lot calmer.

Eliza smiled slightly. "I'm fine. Just tired." She lied. When had lying come so easily to her?

Alec frowned at her and sat down next to her. "Don't lie, Liz. What's going on?"

She pursed her lips and then sighed heavily. "Aren't you getting annoyed with the way Jace acts with Clary?" She asked. Alec looked at her with bewildered eyes. He stumbled over his words, never really getting them out. "Alec." She said softly. "I see what others don't sometimes. That means…I see the way you look at him. And I think it's the way that I look at him as well."

Alec said nothing, his lips in a hard line. She waited for him to speak and he never did.

"He's like the sun, isn't he?" She spoke again. "He's bright, he's always bright. But if you get too close, if you try to look at him too closely, he burns you. I feel as if I've done something to lose him, but maybe I never really had him."

He nodded solemnly. "It's how I felt when you got here." He admitted quietly. Her green eyes widened as she took in what he said. He stood up. "I won't tell if you won't." He said to her.

She mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key. "Alec, there's something else." She said before he left.

He paused. "What is it?"

"I want him dead. Valentine. He ruined so many lives and he's the reason my family is gone. I want to kill him."

Alec's face softened. "No one would blame you if you did."

She shook her head ruefully. "Yes, I think so. There are so many more people who he's hurt more than me. Someone who he's really done wrong, someone who he's destroyed from the inside out, they should be the one to kill him."

"They may not have the guts. What if you do? What if you have it in you?"

Her jaw set and her eyes darkened. "Then I suppose I'll take the honors and do right by the world."

Alec said nothing before he left the room.

* * *

 _Jace's hands were soft as they ran through her hair. The colors of the flowers in the greenhouse seemed brighter than ever, more alive than ever._

 _"What are you thinking?" His voice was like a melody that washed over her, drowning her._

 _She looked up at him, her head in his lap. Her pink lips spread into a wide smile. "Just that I love you." His tawny eyes flickered. But he didn't say it back. "Jace?" She whispered._

 _He was looking away from her, out of the greenhouse to the stairs. He stood up, leaving her in the floor and ran out of the greenhouse._

 _"Jace!" Eliza called, rushing to her feet. She ran out of the greenhouse, her fingers brushing against the morning glories._

 _Her pale hair blew softly behind her as she walked through the desolate halls of the Institute. Melancholy music filled the hallways._

 _The music room._

 _She could recognize Jace's pensive piano playing anywhere. She rushed to the music room. The curtains flew in the wind, billowing around the room like ghosts._

 _"Jace?" She whispered as she stepped into the room._

 _The man at the piano stood up. He was tall and broad-shouldered; his hair was a pale shimmer in the moonlight. His eyes gleamed darkly._

 _"Eliza, I've been waiting for you." She realized when he spoke that it was not Jace at all._

 _The man was much older than Jace, more muscular. "Who are you?" She asked quietly._

 _A boy stepped from the shadows. His hair pale and his eyes dark. "Father, she doesn't remember us." His voice was anything but kind. There was a hollowness to him, a void empty of emotion._

 _The man stepped towards her and she stumbled backwards. "Where's Jace? What have you done with him?"_

 _The man chuckled deeply. "The boy is fine. You should be more concerned about yourself, seeing as how you've made a terrible mistake."_

 _Her head swam in a sea of confusion. What the hell was going on? "Who are you? Tell me who you are, or I'll scream."_

 _The boy laughed and suddenly, he was behind her. His hands were gripping her shoulders. "Oh, my little sister. You'll scream, but no one will hear you." The grin on his face was malicious._

 _This was not her brother. Not her Jonathan. Her Jonathan was sweet and mild-tempered, with beautiful brown curls of hair that reached his shoulders and the same caramel eyes as their uncle._

 _"You aren't my brother. You aren't Jonathan." She whispered, trying to step away from him but he held her in place firmly._

 _He grinned madly at her. "Yes, I am. Soon enough, you'll remember. You'll remember the truth and what you've done."_

 _The man stood in front of them. His dark gaze stared right into her. "My dear Eliza, you have no idea what you've done." He murmured to her. "The mess you've created. The pain you've caused. But soon, you will know, and you will pay for your betrayal. And I believe I'll start with those friends of yours. The Lightwood children, perhaps?"_

 _She shook her head furiously, her hair whipping around her face. "No. No, please don't hurt them. Please don't hurt anyone." She begged. "I'll do anything, I swear. My family has money, plenty of money. You can have it, all of it. Please just don't hurt my friends."_

 _He smacked her, the force sending her backwards as the boy let her go. She fell against the hard floor, clutching her face. "I don't want your pretend money, you stupid girl. I want payment for your betrayal and if it comes at the lives of your little friends, then so be it. Even if it means hurting Jace."_

 _Jace. Where was Jace?_

 _"Where is he? What have you done with him?" She was on her feet in an instant._

 _His maniacal laughter filled the room, resonating off the walls. It filled her with a cold, made her legs feel like stone. Frozen with fear._

 _"He'll never forgive you, Eliza. None of them will. In saving them, you lost them. Now, say goodbye."_

 _Her scream cut through the room._

"Liz! Liz, wake up!"

Her eyes shot open. Alec was leaning over her, his hands on her shoulders firmly. "Get off!" She shouted, shoving him back.

He hit the wall with a thud and stared back at her. "You were screaming bloody murder." He told her.

Her chest heaved as she sat up. She ran her hands through her hair, which was sticky and wet with sweat. She looked at Alec, her hands shaking. "It was a bad dream. I'm sorry I shoved you."

He shook his head and said it was no big deal. "What was it? Your dream. It helps to talk about them."

He sat down on the bed next to her. "I'm not going to bother you with my nightmares, Alec." She told him. "I'll be fine."

But she wanted to tell him. Or tell someone, at least. Someone had to know.

"When I was younger, I used to have really bad night terrors. I never talked about them because I didn't want anyone to know. My mom made me talk about them because it got so bad at night, I was scaring Izzy. It helped and eventually, they went away."

She bit down on her lip. "That's very kind of you to offer a listening ear, Alec. But it was just a bad dream." She replaced her weary expression with a thankful smile. "Where's Jace?"

Alec frowned at her. "The Bone City. With Clary. They left a little after five this morning." She asked what time it was, throwing the blanket off her body. "Almost seven. Will you make breakfast before Izzy wakes up and takes the task herself? I'd enjoy something edible for my first meal of the day." He cracked a dry smile at her.

She smiled at him back. "One day, Isabelle is going to poison all of you if you keep insulting her cooking skills. She may not be the best, but at least she tries." Alec gave her a withering look. "Let me shower. I'm feeling pancakes." She folded.

Alec gave her a grateful look and left her room.

She got ready quickly, showering and brushing her teeth. She dressed herself in jeans and a white v-neck tee shirt and only socks on her feet. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair fell down her shoulders in soft waves. She frowned and twisted it into two braids.

She made her way to the kitchen. Church was lying in front of the fridge, staring at her. Waiting for his own breakfast.

"Spoiled little beast." She mumbled. She got the cat food from the pantry and poured some in his food bowl and then refilled his water bowl. He seemed to glare at her. "I'll give you some sausage and bacon once it's cooked." She told him.

He meowed in response and went to eating his food. She shook her head and went to work. She gathered all the ingredients and set them on the counter, turning the stove on after. She grabbed four pans and put them on the burners. Two for pancakes, one for the meat and one for eggs.

"Don't cook. We're going out for breakfast." Alec appeared in the kitchen. She looked back at him, eyes narrow. "Jace called. Said to meet him at Taki's."

She groaned loudly. Alec helped her put the things away and turn the stove off. Church pawed at her ankles. "Another time, little beast. I'll make you a marvelous meal another time." She bent down and scratched the top of his head. "I suppose I'll need shoes. Give me a few minutes and maybe go wake Isabelle."

Alec's mouth tightened, and he left her. She went back to her room and changed into darker jeans and her boots. She grabbed her stele from her desk and shoved it in her pocket.

She met Alec at the front door of the Institute. "Where's Izzy?" She asked.

He shrugged. "The mundane is with her. She said they'd meet us there."

* * *

They met Jace and Clary at Taki's. The two were waiting outside on them. "You called right on time. Liz was about to make breakfast." Alec told Jace.

"Probably would have been better than whatever they serve here." Eliza muttered.

Jace cracked a grin at her. "Is it the food or the waitress?" He asked her.

"That faerie whore-." She stopped herself. "I don't like her attitude." She refrained from saying something much worse.

Jace rolled his eyes. "Let's go inside. I'm dying for mouse tails."

Clary's green eyes widened. He said he was kidding and they went inside. Eliza caught the way Clary stared at Clancy as they walked by him to go inside. She nudged Eliza with her elbow.

"Who was that?" She whispered.

Eliza glanced down at her. "Clancy. He's kind of like a bodyguard. Keeps out people who shouldn't come in." They followed Jace to a booth and sat down.

"He's a demon, though." Clary whispered loudly.

The couple at the table next to them turned to look at them. Jace said no sharply. Alec and Jace sat on one side of the booth and Eliza and Clary on the other. "Clancy's an ifrit. A warlock without magic." Jace explained.

Alec began looking at his menu and Clary picked hers up in suit. "Don't even look at the faerie food." Eliza told her. "It makes you a bit…wild." Her eyes glinted darkly. Jace asked for coffee in a loud voice, interrupting Alec's crazy story about something they had done before Eliza arrived in May. "The human food is on the back." She told Clary quietly.

Isabelle arrived, Simon at her side. She suggested the apricot and plum smoothie to Clary. "Well, neither of us are going to sit with the boys." Izzy sighed.

Eliza rolled her eyes and got up. "Move over." She told Alec. He scooted closer to Jace and she sat next to him. "What are you getting?" She asked him.

He shrugged, immersing himself in the menu again. Izzy smelled faintly of vanilla. "Well, did you figure anything out?" Izzy asked, opening her menu. "Tell me you found something interesting."

"Yeah." Jace told her. He looked over at Eliza. "There's a block on Clary's mind. We got a name. Magnus Bane. Sound familiar to you?" There was a knowing glint in his eyes. Alec hit Jace lightly with his menu and told him to speak discreetly.

"As in, my Magnus?" She asked him. He nodded, smiling tightly.

She vaguely remembered telling them that Magnus had gotten her away from some werewolves one night and that he took an interest in her. "Unless there's another one."

"Your Magnus? What does that mean?" Clary asked her.

Eliza flipped absentmindedly through her menu. Once she was finished, she looked at Clary. "Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Mine, as in I know him relatively well. He's my best friend." She explained.

Their waitress finally arrived. Eliza sucked on her teeth, refraining from saying something nasty to the fey girl in front of them.

She didn't like Kaelie, not in the least. And Kaelie didn't like her either. Her blue eyes narrowed as they skirted over Eliza, but she gave Jace a glittering smile. "You guys know what you want?" She asked sweetly.

Jace grinned back at her. Eliza felt like she was going to be sick. "The usual for me." Alec said he'd also get his usual and Eliza said the same thing. Izzy ordered a smoothie, Simon a coffee and Clary asked for a coffee with coconut pancakes.

"What is she?" Clary asked them.

"A faerie. A slutty one, but a faerie." Eliza said, her voice as sharp as one of her throwing knives. Alec whistled lowly.

"Definitely part fey." Jace agreed.

"But she has nixie eyes." Izzy cut in.

Jace nudged at Alec. "Can I get out for a second?" He asked. Eliza stood up, a dangerous look on her face. Alec was scowling as Jace walked past them. The two of them sat back down, Eliza's eyes trained on her menu.

Eliza let herself glance back at Jace. He had his arm around Kaelie, the fey girl snuggled close to him.

"He shouldn't tease her like that." Isabelle said in a soft voice.

Jace's gaze caught Eliza's and she whipped back around. "You don't think he likes her?" Eliza asked quietly.

Izzy gave her a sympathetic look. "No. She's a Downworlder."

Clary said she was confused and Izzy launched into an explanation about Downworlders to her. At the end, Clary had a hard look on her face. "So, they're good enough to be of service to you, but once they've served a purpose, they aren't good enough to be people in your eyes?" Clary asked.

"They're fine. They're just different from people." Alec said to her.

Jace slid back into the booth, saddling himself next to Eliza. His golden blond curls were tousled and there was a lipstick mark on his cheek.

Kaelie arrived moments later with their food. She distributed it and left, winking at Jace.

Clary dug into her pancakes and Jace began picking at his fries.

"Speaking of Downworlders…" Isabelle dug around in her pockets and produced a piece of paper. "Look."

Jace took the paper. "Oh. An invite to a party in Brooklyn. Where'd you get this from, Isabelle?" She told him she got it from a kelpie at Pandemonium.

Eliza snatched the piece of paper from Jace. Her eyes scanned over it. It was in fact an invitation to a party in Brooklyn. Magnus' party.

"Well?" Jace asked her.

She crumpled the paper and handed it back to him without looking at him. "It's Magnus' handwriting."

Alec groaned. "So, we're going." He said.

Jace shrugged. "It'd be interesting, to say the least. Besides, why is the High Warlock of Brooklyn's name inside Clary's head?" He looked at Eliza. The lipstick stain on his cheek was burned inside her mind. "Is everything okay, Liz?"

"I'm going to be sick." She murmured. "Please let me out of the booth."

Jace stood up and let her pass. She covered her mouth and started walking.

"What's wrong with her?" She heard him ask.

"You're being stupid, Jace. You know exactly what's wrong with her and maybe if you'd stop flirting with our waitress, Eliza might talk to you about what's going on with her." Alec's voice was venomous.

"What exactly is going on with her, Alec? What do you know that I don't?" Jace bit back.

"Ask her yourself, jackass." Alec replied easily. "She's in love with you. She'll tell you whatever you want to know if you ask nice enough."

She bit down on her lip and walked out of the diner.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a soft knock on her door. She'd only been back at the Institute for a little while. She had stopped by Magnus' first, her skin on fire. She had demanded an outfit for the party that night, one that would make her almost unrecognizable. And he had delivered, sending her and the outfit on their way so he could make his apartment presentable for the party.

"Come in." She said, her hairbrush working dutifully through her wet hair. She didn't see who came in her room, only hearing the door open and close.

"I feel as if we should talk." Jace's voice was clear, resonating in her mind.

A sick feeling filled her stomach as she remembered her dream from the previous night. "Oh? What about?" She stood up and moved to her bed. She pitched a throw blanket over her outfit for the party.

"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me." He said simply.

She raised her eyebrows at him. She pulled the sleeves of her cardigan over her hands. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

Jace leaned against the door. "Alec says you're mad about the Kaelie thing earlier."

Her shoulders stiffened. She looked at him with an unusual look in her eyes. "Why would I be mad? You're an attractive and single young man. You withhold a right to flirt with and kiss whomever you like."

He narrowed his eyes at her, clearly not believing a word from her mouth. "Is that what you and Alec have been doing, then? Flirting and kissing?" His words were venomous, burning her skin. She couldn't help but laugh at him as she asked what he meant. "You think I haven't noticed how close you and Alec have gotten? I can't imagine what goes on when the two of you are alone."

She clenched her hands into fists at her sides. "Well, I can certainly say I wonder how you spend your time with Clary. And as for what happens when I'm alone with Alec, it is most definitely not what occurs when I'm alone with you." She spat at him. "In which I mean that I am not filled with an undeniable sense of dread and annoyance."

"What is your problem?" He shouted at her. "You didn't used to be like this."

What the hell did that mean? She rolled her eyes at him. "You're my problem, Wayland." She gave him a stone look, her eyes like green daggers glaring at him.

"Eliza, what do you remember about your family?" Jace asked suddenly.

She frowned in confusion. They were in the midst of an argument and he was asking about her family? What sort of nonsense?

"Remember them? You act as if they died five years ago, not five months ago. I remember everything about them."

Jace's face seemed to soften. "I'm sorry, Liz. I didn't mean anything I said."

She put her hands on the desk, leaning back on it. "Very well. Apology accepted." She paused for a moment and decided to do the kind thing. "I apologize as well. I shouldn't have been so nasty towards you."

Jace took three steps towards her. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You don't talk about your family a lot, you know. I know the basics, but you don't ever really talk about them. Who they were."

She gestured to the bed and he sat down. She drew her legs up on the desk and perched herself on top of it. "My mother had these incredibly green eyes. The color of the forest after rain, that's how my father described them. She was mild-tempered and kind-hearted. I used to love playing with her hair. She always wore her hair down when I was younger. It fell in this waterfall of dark red curls. I loved it. It was like fire. And my dad…he was the most wonderful person I've ever known. I can't even describe him, honestly. They were a lot better when I was younger, my parents." Her voice went wistful, her eyes glazed with tears. "I was really young when my uncle died. My mother adored her younger brother. She would have killed for him, I think. Sometimes, if I think hard enough, I can see his eyes or hear his laugh. He used to chase Jonathan and I around the gardens of the house. When he died, I felt things change in the house. My mother didn't leave her bed for months. We weren't allowed to run in the gardens anymore." She was alert of the way Jace's eyes were staring her down as she spoke. She licked her lips and went on.

"He died during the Uprising." She said quietly. "Valentine was fleeing, and my uncle was defending him. Valentine fled from a fight he caused, and my uncle was too blind, too loyal, to stray away. A few months after he died, my mother started talking. I heard her whisper about taking us away, leaving behind everything except what we needed. She wanted to run, to quit being Shadowhunters. If my father had been closer with Uncle Henry, if he hadn't been so proud a Starkweather, he would have appeased her." She told him. "But my father was one of the last Starkweathers left. So, he told my mother that Jonathan and I wouldn't train as Shadowhunters. We wouldn't know how to fight or kill a demon. Jonathan hid books in his room, he would stay up all night reading about demonology and the different ways to kill a demon. He wanted nothing more than to be the best Shadowhunter our world had ever seen. He taught me as much as he could. Before he turned eighteen, he hired Westley Hightower to tutor me. West was patient with me. After John turned eighteen, he left Alicante to go to the London Institute to learn from Arthur Blackthorn. He came back every year for Christmas and my birthday. My parents tried so hard to get Westley to quit tutoring me, but no amount of money could persuade him. Every week, there was a dance held in the Hall of the Accords. I always went with John and then when he left, West escorted me. The dance of the week of my seventeenth birthday, John took Guinevere Cartwright and West took me. I wore a dress that John had brought me from London and that night, West kissed me. That was the last time I saw my brother before he died. He left early to walk Guinevere home and he was asleep when West dropped me off. West came early the next day, before John was awake, to take me to the demon towers."

Jace was no longer sitting. He was standing in front of her. She was aware of a wetness on her cheeks. Tears, she realized. The pads of his thumbs ran across the blotches of red on her cheeks, wiping the tears.

"Sometimes I think it's all a dream." She said softly. "It all seems so…perfect when I think about it. How could something so beautiful be real?"

Jace let his hands fall from her face. They rested on her knees. "The best things in life seem likes dreams, Liz. That's what I think whenever I lo-." He cut himself off and backed away. She asked what he was about to say, leaning forward. "Nothing. I'll see you later for the party."

He walked across the room, his hand resting on the doorknob. He paused, turning around. "You have her eyes." His voice was beautiful, smooth and flowing. "Your mother." He further explained. "Your eyes are the color of the forest after it rains."

She smiled at him as he left the room.

* * *

She wound up in the training room with Alec. "Does your offer still stand?" She asked, balancing on the rafters at the top of the room. Her voice floating down to where Alec was punching a dummy.

"What offer?" He shouted up to her.

She laughed quietly. "To talk. About my dream."

"Yes. Now, if you want." He replied easily.

She smiled to herself. Alec was such a good friend. She wished she would have gotten him before Jace had. He made an excellent fighting partner.

"I was in the greenhouse with Jace. We were lying among the morning glories and he was playing with my hair. But then he ran out of the room and I went to find him. I heard his piano music, so I went to the music room, but it wasn't him. There was this awful man who said terrible things. And there was a boy who insisted he was my brother, but he didn't look at all like Jonathan and he called the man his father, but he didn't look like my father either. I remember being seized by an awful fear because the man said he was going to hurt you and he was going to hurt Jace. And then you woke me up."

Alec had stopped punching. He was looking up at her, his lips pursed. "You're scared." He finally said. "You're worried about Jace. You're afraid he's going to do something stupid regarding Valentine."

She flipped down from the rafters, landing gracefully and firmly on her feet. She swiped pieces of stray hair from her face, looking up at Alec. "And you're not? This is Jace, after all."

Alec let out an amused noise. "Very true. I know how to keep him from doing something stupid." She asked how to do that. She had to know. Alec smirked at her, a mischievous look in his eyes. She asked him again. "Stay by him. Be at his side always. He won't do anything stupid with you around him. He doesn't want to risk you getting hurt because of him."

The familiar sense of déjà vu washed over her. She felt as if they'd had a similar conversation before. She shook the feeling away and rolled her eyes as her response. "I should go shower. For the party."

Alec's amused look fell from his face. "Right." He nodded. "Liz, I was telling the truth. Jace really does care about you. I…I don't know what'd he do if something happened to you."

* * *

She paused in front of the mirror. The black thigh high boots carved out the toned shape of her legs, the shortness of the dress accentuated just how long her legs were, the deep wine color of the dress made her pale skin look creamy and the high sleeveless neckline with the chest cutout emphasized her breasts.

She had asked Magnus for something stunning, something not like her at all and he had delivered in his magnificent fashion.

She had colored her lips a deep shade of red, dark makeup around her eyes and her hair fell down her shoulders in a wave of luxuriant loose curls. Her stele band was on her right bicep and her silver arm bands were around her wrists. She had a holster on her left thigh for a seraph blade.

Satisfied, she left her room, wondering what Izzy had conjured up to wear. Ever curious, she made her way to the other girl's room and nudged the door open.

Clary was sitting in front of Izzy's vanity, Izzy standing behind her and fixing her hair. From what Eliza saw, Clary was wearing something of Izzy's, a little slip of a black dress paired with fishnet tights and black boots. Izzy wore a silver skirt and a glimmering top, spots of silver in her inky hair.

Izzy turned back, a bright smile on her face. "Damn, Liz. You look _hot_." Clary went to turn but Izzy jerked her head back straight. "Where'd you get that dress?"

Eliza stepped into the room. "Magnus. He likes to spoil."

Izzy didn't respond. She continued her ministrations with Clary's hair, pinning it up with glittering pins. "Now for your makeup." Izzy decided.

"What's he like? Magnus?" Clary asked Eliza.

How to describe an entity like Magnus Bane, the Magnificent? "A rave." She decided. "He's bright and full of life."

"Can I ask the two of you something and it won't leave the room?" Clary asked them quietly.

Izzy inspected an eyeliner pen, glancing between it and Clary's eyes. "Yeah. Go ahead." She went to work on Clary's eyeliner.

Eliza watched Clary's mouth twitch as she tried to form the words. Finally, she spoke. "Alec. Is he…gay?"

Eliza watched Izzy's hand jerk, creating a dark path from Clary's eye to where her hair began. "Shit." Izzy muttered, tossing the pen on the vanity. Izzy turning quickly, her hands working around the mess of her vanity. She glanced back at Eliza, her expression unsure. "You can't say anything, either of you." Izzy said quietly.

"I knew." Eliza told Izzy. Izzy looked at her incredulously, like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I've spoken to Alec about it."

"Are Shadowhunters not allowed to be gay?" Clary questioned.

Izzy began wiping the stray eyeliner with a cotton ball. "It's seriously frowned upon. My parents would probably disown Alec and he'd be tossed out. It isn't talked about, being gay. Not with us."

Clary said nothing else on the matter, realizing the touchiness of the subject. Izzy finished her makeup. Clary leaned forward to get closer to the mirror. There was a stunned look on her face.

"Do you like it?" Izzy asked her. Clary said she did, her voice a shocked whisper of excitement. "Good. Let's go. I've heard amazing things about Downworld parties."

She looked at Eliza with a furious excitement, waiting for her to interlude on the matter. "Prepare to be amazed." Eliza admitted in a low voice.

They made their way from Izzy's room to the entryway of the Institute. The boys were waiting there, all dressed in black.

Eliza was aware of Jace's gaze on her. His slack mouth, his wide eyes. She smirked at him. "Wipe the drool from your mouth, Wayland. We've got a party to get to."

Jace's hand went to his mouth immediately. Simon was at Clary's side, inquiring about her dress. Jace handed Clary a small dagger, a rose shaped red stone on the hilt. Clary slipped the blade in her bag.

Eliza subconsciously fiddled with the thin throwing knives on her wrists. "You wear knives on your wrists? Isn't that dangerous?" Simon observed.

Her lips formed a slight smirk. "The bands are made of iron, long enough to cover the blade of any regular sized throwing knife. Completely safe. For me."

Simon paled at her response. "Don't mind her." Izzy told Simon. "Liz likes sharp objects. It's scary what she can do with a blade. She never misses."

Simon glanced at Eliza, a fearful look in his eyes. "Jace, wanna give him a demonstration?" Her green eyes seemed to darken a little. Jace said by all means. He stood stock still against the wall. Eliza took out a throwing knife. The silver blade was thin, glinting in the lighting. She twirled the knife over her knuckles, never hurting herself. "Ready?" He mumbled a yes.

Within the blink of an eye, the knife was out of her grasp, stuck in the wall right neck to Jace's ear. His finger grazed over his ear, coming back tipped in blood. "You nicked me." Jace breathed. "I'm bleeding."

Simon looked at Izzy, his brown eyes wide. "I thought you said she never missed?"

Eliza walked to Jace and plucked the knife from the wall. She put the knife back in the band and looked back at Simon. "I don't." He swallowed hard.

* * *

"You're sure you know the way?" Jace asked for the tenth time. "This doesn't look like somewhere the High Warlock of Brooklyn would live." He had tasked Isabelle with mapping the way, even though Eliza was leading them.

"Yes." Eliza groaned. "And if you're so sure of my incompetence, you can walk on your own and I'll go by myself." She told him sharply. "As if I don't know the way. It's etched into my mind."

"We're on the right street." Izzy announced, backing Eliza up.

Eliza gave her a thankful smile. Just ahead, she could see the sleek sheen of motorcycles. Demon energy motorcycles.

"I think we're in the right place." Alec told Jace.

Jace grimaced, taking in the bikes. "Vampires. Great."

Izzy started on how the bikes had been manipulated to run on the demon energy and then Alec interceded, saying how some flew or worked underwater.

"This the building?" Jace asked Eliza, pointing at the brick warehouse.

She said yes. He started towards the building, but she pulled him back. "Let me go first." She told him. "He knows me."

The five of them followed her into the building. She led them up the stairs to Magnus' apartment door. She pressed her palm against the door and it swung open. Magnus was close to the door, as if he had been about to open it.

"Well, if it isn't my little dove." Magnus' smile seemed to gleam, his yellow feline eyes shimmering under the lights. His dark hair was in spikes atop his head. He looked like one of the kids she would have seen in Pandemonium, dressed in jeans and black shirt that was covered in silver buckles. He had tons of black glitter around his eyes, his lips an electrifying blue. "I didn't realize I had invited you." He murmured thoughtfully. "No. I only invited my darling Eliza."

She made a half-annoyed face at him. "Don't be coy, Magnus. You knew we were coming. I came earlier." She reminded him in a weary voice.

Magnus looked her up and down, eyes skittering over her appearance. "I was right about the dress. I told you it would compliment that pale skin of yours." He stepped aside. "Inside you come, Nephilim. Please try not to murder any of my guests. That would be rude."

Eliza walked past him, a catty look in her eyes. She grabbed Jace, pulling him away from the others. "Do not be yourself tonight." She warned him. "We need his help and his favoring of me will not help us if you piss him off."

Jace shook her away. "You think I don't know how to behave?" He looked shocked.

She made a thin line of her red lips. "You do. You just act as if you don't."

Magnus' apartment looked different. It was void of furniture for the party. He had torn the doors from the rooms to use as a bar. There was a woman bartending, her lilac skin a beautiful shade and her two pairs of arms working swiftly.

A cat pawed at her covered ankle and she looked down. "Hello, birthday boy." She bent and lifted him into her arms. Jace made a face as she cooed at the cat. "Jace, say hello to Chairman Meow. Chairman, meet Jace."

Chairman Meow hissed at Jace.

Eliza saw Magnus slink towards Clary and she saddled herself beside him once he stopped walking.

"So, what's the party for?" Clary asked him.

"My cat. Though I've no idea where the beast has gone." Magnus sighed. "He doesn't like crowds."

Eliza cleared her throat, calling them to attention. Both looked at her. Clary asked if that was his cat and he said yes solemnly. "He really isn't enjoying the party, Magnus." She told him.

"Clary, this is my recently returned cat, Chairman Meow. He prefers the presence of Eliza. She sneaks him food he shouldn't have."

Clary cracked a smile. "She does the same thing with Church at the Institute. Your cat isn't special." Jace appeared. "It's a thing she does, you know. She makes people feel special and then she moves on to someone else."

Eliza's eyes narrowed at him. She put the cat down and let him scurry away. She so wanted to say something despicable but decided not to, for the sake of listening ears.

"So," Clary spoke, "where are Simon and Isabelle?"

Eliza noticed the crown of flowers topping Jace's halo of golden curls. He pointed to the dance floor. Jace looked at Magnus. "We need-."

A booming voice cut him off, shouting Magnus' name. The voice belonged to a short bald man with a dark goatee. "Warlock, someone poured holy water in the tank of my bike. All the pipes are melted."

Magnus looked half amused by the story. "A dreadful occurrence, I'm sure." Magnus bemused. The vampire bore his fangs at Magnus, demanding to know who was responsible and blaming the werewolves. Magnus looked down at his glitter covered fingernails. "None of the Moon Children were given an invitation, therefore, if a werewolf did this, it is not my responsibility."

"Do not try and skim you-." The vampire started to say.

Magnus' long index finger had barely moved, just the half of a twitch really. The vampire's hands went around his throat, a gagging noise protruding. Magnus had a lazy look on his face as he gazed at the vampire. "I believe the time for you to leave has arrived, Child of the Night." Magnus spread out his fingers and the vampire turned, being pushed to the door by an invisible force.

Jace had an impressed look on his face. "Cool." Was all he said. Magnus gave a gratified look.

Alec laughed lightly. "It was me, you know. I put the holy water in the gas tank. Figured the world could do with one less bloodsucker who had a sweet ride."

Eliza was shell-shocked. Alec had done that? "Shut up." Jace told him quietly.

Magnus looked at Alec with amusement. "What a spiteful angel you are." He smiled. "Is that all you came for? To pour some holy water in motorcycles? I'm disappointed; Eliza said there was an important matter to be discussed. I do hope I'm not in trouble with your Clave."

Jace said he wasn't. He told Magnus anything discussed was strictly confidential.

"Good. I have a room we can use to speak privately. Follow me."

Magnus led them down the sparsely populated hall and opened the door to the second door on the right.

The room had sparse white walls, a regal four poster bed sat in front of the furthest wall, a matching wardrobe across from it. There was a matching vanity as well and a door that led to a bathroom.

"Is this your room? It's awful plain." Jace observed. "Especially since you're so…loud." He used the words delicately.

"Heavens no." Magnus laughed loudly. "This room belongs to Eliza."

She felt them all look at her. "Wait, what?" Alec inquired. "She has a room here?"

Magnus shut the door and waved a hand over it. "Yes, of course she does. I know she's the best Shadowhunter of her age and that she's very deadly, but I much prefer she stay here instead of travelling back to Manhattan so late at night. I'm a warlock, not a monster." He gave Eliza the kindest of smiles. "So, what can I do for you?"

Clary cleared her throat. Magnus looked down at her inquisitively. He observed that she was not a Shadowhunter but did have more than a touch of the Sight. "My mom was. But I can't talk to her. She was taken. By Valentine."

A look of darkness passed over Magnus' face but was gone in an instant. "I apologize. I don't know a Valentine. Is there something else?"

Clary nodded. "I can't remember things. Things I need to remember. And when I went to the Silent City, guess what they found."

"I can be proud, sometimes at my own expense." Magnus said bitterly. "I should have never left my signature there." His index finger traced his name in the air, the letters made of golden fire. "I did a wonderful job on you, Clarissa Fray. One of my finer works. You didn't know you had the Sight, forgetting every little piece of the Shadow World as you saw it. I did better than your mother had asked me."

Clary was outraged. Rightfully so. Her mother had had her mind altered, in a nonconsensual fashion. "But…But why?" Clary grumbled.

"I didn't ask." Magnus told her. "I do what I'm paid," he paused dramatically, "within the Law, of course." Clary asked how often, was it just one time? What was she forgetting? Something specific? She sat down on Eliza's bed, a defeated slump to her shoulders. "You were two the first time we met. Your mother looked so mundane as she came to my door. She held you in a blanket and when she unwrapped you, you were all over my apartment. She told me that she was Nephilim. She said you were making nice with one of the lesser Fair Folk that afternoon and she knew she had to do something about your Inner Eye. At first, she wanted me to strip you of the Sight." Clary interrupted, a choked noise coming from her throat. Magnus eyed her carefully before going on. "You have an unusually strong woman for a mother, Miss Fray." Magnus told her. "I said I would not alter your mind so severely. I told her that I would place a block that would erase the Shadow World as you saw it, but it had to be refreshed every two years. I have watched you grow up, something I've never done."

"You recognized her when we came through the door." Jace stated. Magnus gave a weary answer: yes, of course.

He ran his ring-covered fingers through his spiked hair. "I was shocked to see you here, though." He said to Clary. "I was due to see you a month ago, but I had to leave for a trip to Tanzania. I stopped by your home once I came back, but your mother said you'd run away somewhere and she'd call me as soon as you returned. I never got a call." Magnus explained to her.

Clary stood up. "I saw you. You were leaving Madame Dorothea's."

Magnus looked pleased that someone remembered him. And then he scowled. "You shouldn't have seen me. My glamour was as thick as a cement wall."

"She's full of surprises." Eliza interceded, her voice airy.

"Can you take it off me? The spell? I want to remember." Clary spoke to Magnus.

Magnus said no, he couldn't. "Can you reverse it?" Alec's voice was oddly soft-spoken.

Again, the warlock said no. "Creating a spell is easy. Undoing one is not. I won't put Clary's mind in that sort of danger. She could go mad. The spell has begun fading now and soon, it will fade completely. Though, I can't say what memories will be brought back and what will stay behind."

"I'm damaged and I just want it fixed." Clary said in a hard voice. Her hands were tight in her lap.

Magnus had a foul look on his face. He's cross, Eliza realized. She had never seen him cross before. She didn't care for it. She preferred him bubbly.

"Little girl, every person your age feels damaged or broken. It's called teen angst. Now, you are different. But it is not a bad different." His voice was cool, made of black ice. "A bad different is when your nice religious parents have you for a child, plagued by the mark of the devil. Bad different is when your mother is so sickened by your existence that she hangs herself in the barn and your father attempts to drown you in the creek when you're ten and you set him on fire. A bad different is hating what you are."

Eliza put a reassuring hand on Magnus' bicep. He looked down at her and she gave the softest smile she could muster.

"It wasn't on you." Alec spoke, breaking the tense silence. "You had no say in how you were born."

Magnus looked at Clary. "Different is good, once you get over the bad things. Jocelyn was protecting you. I suggest you take it in kindness." Clary muttered that she didn't care about being different. She just wanted to know who she really was. Magnus sighed, Eliza's hand falling back to her side. "Oh, fine." He said in a decided tone. "I shall give you something."

He moved to exit the room, slipping through the dark door quietly.

"Is he always like that? So tense?" Alec asked her in an interested voice.

She hid a smile. "No. He's usually very…light."

Magnus entered the room, a thick green book in his hands. "That's the Gray Book." Jace observed. "How do you have that?"

Magnus gave him a catty smile. "I've been alive for centuries. One acquires many valuable things through the years. Now, Clarissa, come here." He laid the book on the bed and opened it to a specific page. "Look at this until you feel it." She asked what she would feel. "How would I know? It's your mind."

Eliza crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the floor. "Are you okay?" Alec's voice was barely a whisper. "You know Jace was just being an ass earlier."

"I had forgotten the incident until now." She lied to him. In reality, the encounter burned in her mind. Jace's biting words.

"Do you perform a lot of memory blocks?" Jace asked Magnus.

Alec's head snapped up and Magnus looked as if he could kill. "Not many, no." His tone had a sharp edge to it.

"Hmm. Interesting." Jace murmured.

Eliza heard Magnus snatch the book from Clary and snap it shut. "You can't read them all at once." Magnus told her. "You'll feel sick."

Clary began to object but instead closed her mouth.

"I gave you the rune for remembrance. It should help the process along faster. It's all I can do for you." Magnus told her.

"But I need to remember the Mortal Cup and I still don't know anything about it."

Magnus' face actually darkened. It was one of the first times Eliza had seen him look completely serious. "You have never known anything about the Mortal Cup." He told Clary. "Nor any of the Mortal Instruments."

Eliza's mind prickled. The Mortal Cup…

"Instruments?" Clary echoed. "There's more than one?"

Eliza gave a quiet yes. "Our Angel gifted Jonathan Shadowhunter three things. Sword, cup and mirror. The Mortal Sword resides in the Bone City with the Silent Brothers and the Mortal Cup and Mortal Glass were in Idris. Until Valentine stole the Cup. No one has seen the Mirror in…no one knows how long it's been." She explained to Clary.

The idea of the Cup resonated in her mind. She could envision the golden chalice, placed in the hands of Jonathan Shadowhunter by the Angel Raziel. And then she saw it in the hands of the man from her dream. A shiver of cold washed over her and she closed her eyes.

"You intend to get to the Angel's Cup before Valentine does." Magnus noted. "It would be wise for you to keep yourselves unconcerned of his plan for revenge." He told them.

Eliza didn't notice the worried glance he gave her. "Were you there? At the Uprising?" Alec asked him.

Magnus said he was. Eliza looked at him. Magnus had been there? Among all that nasty fighting and killing? She couldn't imagine her fanciful warlock fighting for his life. Clary reported that Magnus didn't sound so surprised that Valentine was still alive.

That was when Eliza saw all the worried looks. Jace, Magnus, Alec. All wore the same expression. She made no move that said she noticed their looks.

"Monsters always survive." Eliza's voice was a dreadful quiet.

Magnus clapped his hands. "Back to the party before something awful happens." Eliza was the last to leave the room, Magnus at her side. "How are you, my little dove?" He asked as he locked the door.

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" He shrugged, saying nothing more about it. "Do you know anything?" She asked. "Something about the Cup or Valentine that you aren't letting on?"

His look was sharp. "No. I know nothing. Please go enjoy the party. You look too hot to have that sour look on your face." She let the expression fall. "The Wayland boy is quite delicious looking, I see why you're interested in him. But that Lightwood fellow…mmm, I'd love to eat him up."

She heard Clary scream. She tore away from Magnus, her response dissolving in her mind. She found them, Isabelle in front of them. Izzy and Clary looked frazzled. "What the devil is going on?" She asked.

"Simon's a rat." Jace said, his voice uncaring.

Eliza began to respond and then frowned. "Jace, we don't call mundanes 'rats'. It isn't kind."

Clary had a tight grip on Izzy's wrist. "No. He drank something and turned into a rat." Izzy told her. She jerked her wrist. "You're denting my bracelet, let go!" She whined.

"You bitch." Clary hissed at Izzy, running towards the bar. Izzy grabbed her wrist, rubbing it gently.

Eliza looked at Izzy with a tired look. "You let him drink something? Really?" Izzy mumbled that he had taken it when she wasn't looking. Eliza said that she would go get Magnus to see if he could help.

"Magnus. Magnus." She found him amidst a circle of fey.

He looked down at her, yellow eyes bright. "What is it, little dove?" She explained the situation to him, asking if he could at least come take a look. "Oh, of course. Lead me."

She took Magnus to the bar where her group was standing. Clary held a small brown rat in her hands. "Can you reverse it?" Clary asked Magnus.

"There's simply no point in it." Magnus told her. "It will wear off in a few hours." There was a commotion by the door. "Excuse me. My guests are growing vengeful." He stalked off with a weary look on his face.

"I can't take him on the train. The officers will try to arrest me for transporting pests." Clary said. Alec suggested putting rat-Simon in her bag. Clary didn't oppose. She took her bag off her back and gently put Simon inside.

Magnus loudly announced that the party was over, due to the restlessness of the vampires, who had experienced broken bikes and missing friends. The band ceased playing and people began moving to the door.

Eliza lost her friends in the crowd and planted herself next to Magnus at the door. Her friends appeared just as Magnus was complaining about his parties. "You throw them because of Chairman Meow. Even though he's anti-social."

Magnus agreed with her. His eyes landing on the Shadowhunters. "You're leaving so soon?" He simpered at them.

Jace said yes in a tight voice. "We'd really hate to overstay our welcome."

Magnus slipped a grin. "There was no welcome, Shadowhunters. It was only a pleasure to meet you, Alexander Lightwood. Eliza would love to give you my contact information if you're interested." He winked at Alec.

Alec's cheeks flushed a bright red and Jace grabbed him by the elbow and yanked him away. Izzy followed them. Magnus put a careful hand on Clary's shoulder, holding her behind.

"I have a message to give to you. It's from your mother." Clary's green eyes widened as she asked what it was. "Your mother was a curious thing to me. She hated the world we live in, our Shadow World. You'll do well to remember that she would not want you to risk your life in trying to save hers. It will also be in your best interest to remember that your mother ran from one thing, one dangerous thing in this world. The Shadowhunters."

"Magnus, that's enough, I think." Eliza said. She took Clary from Magnus. "Come on, Clary. Let's go." She looked at Magnus. "The party was interesting. A nice time. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Magnus nodded, his only response. He saw them out and shut the door.

The others were waiting outside the building, Jace leaned so casually against the rusted railing. Alec was trying to calm Izzy down, who was crying profusely about the situation. Her mood changed suddenly, and she began asked how he thought of Magnus.

"Wait." Clary's voice was shockingly demanding. "Simon's gone. He isn't in my bag."

Izzy asked if he had climbed out and Clary shouted a no. Jace took her bag, examining it. "Someone ripped into your bag." He called to Alec and Izzy and told them to go on. He looked at Eliza. "Stay or go?" He asked.

There was a look in her eyes that screamed danger. "Oh, I'm definitely staying." She told him. "You need me. We're going to Magnus. Come."

She led them back into the desolate building and to Magnus' door. Her hand barely touched the door before it swung open.

"GO AWAY! I AM RESTING!" Magnus' voice boomed through the apartment.

Eliza rolled her eyes, like one did when annoyed with a sibling or good friend. "It's me, old man. We have a delicate situation on our hands."

Magnus appeared before them. He wore a kimono with dragon designs and a golden turban on his head. "I was trying to sleep." He said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "Warlocks need rest too."

Chairman Meow returned, his small kitten body behind Magnus' foot. The kitten meowed at Eliza, peering around Magnus.

"Go to her, traitorous little beast." Magnus sighed.

Chairman Meow pounced over his foot and went straight for Eliza. She picked him up and ran her hand through his fur. "Simon's missing. Someone took him from my bag." Clary told Magnus.

"One of your guests, a vampire, brushed against Clary and her bag. We need a bit of information." Jace explained further.

He glared at Jace and then looked to Eliza. Her look said everything: _please help_. "Fine. I remember seeing a vampire leave with a brown rat. I hadn't thought anything of it. The Night Children tend to get stupid when they're drunk and turn into animals." Jace nodded thoughtfully and asked where the lair was. Magnus groaned, running his hands through his hair. "I can't tell you. I can't risk being on their bad side. Again."

"Please." Clary begged, her voice sounding like a child's.

"They could eat him, Magnus. Imagine the horror when the Clave finds out that the High Warlock of Brooklyn knowingly left a mundane in the hands of the vampires." Eliza had never spoken to him in such a manner. She was blackmailing him.

Magnus' eyes turned into dark yellow slits as he looked at her. "Sometimes, little dove, you are incorrigible." He muttered. "They reside in the old Hotel Dumont. Be safe walking."

"You're a warlock and you don't have a Portal?" Clary asked dumbfoundedly.

Magnus nodded. "They're touchy. There are only two in New York. The one at Renwick's and the one at Dorothea's." He looked pointedly at Eliza. "There's a nice Catholic church on Diamond." He plucked Chairman Meow from her and slammed the door shut. A short moment later, it opened back up. "You'll let me know when you're home safe." Not a question.

Eliza's smile was satisfactory. "Yes. As always."

The door slammed shut again.


	8. Chapter 8

Eliza loved the look of churches at night. More specifically, Catholic ones. Most Catholic churches had that Roman-Gothic look to them, but at night, it intensified. At night, the churches looked like something from an old novel.

The wrought iron fence was held locked by a large padlock. "How are we supposed to get it? It's locked." Clary observed in an annoyed voice.

"I'm excellent at picking locks. Let me through." Jace stepped by with his stele. He made easy work of picking open the padlock and it fell to the ground with a clang. "Told you so." He had an annoyingly pleased look on his face.

Clary gave him a look that Eliza decided was supposed to be deadly. "Come on. Before the two of you start hitting each other." Eliza said.

Eliza led them up the stoned path to the double doors of the church. She looked up at the arch above the door, taking in the angel watching over the church.

"Don't you guys feel bad for breaking into a church?" Clary whispered.

"We aren't." Jace told her. "Can I do this?" He asked Eliza.

Her answer was a short and concise no. "You picked the lock." She reminded him. She wriggled her fingers to stretch them out and placed her palm against the hard wood of the door. "Eliza Seraphine." She murmured under her breath. "I ask entry into this holy place in the name of the Nephilim Clave. I ask to have use of your weapons in the name of our Battle That Never Ends. And at last, I ask for your blessing on our mission against the darkness in the name of the Angel Raziel." Her words cut through the air clear and high, each word perfectly pronounced.

The door creaked and swung open slowly. The wind blew inward, pushing her hair in front of her face. Eliza stepped inside the church, Clary directly behind her and Jace in the back.

Eliza wrinkled her nose at the waxy smell of burning candles. She could see them as the source of light at the furthest wall, flickering in the cool air of the night. Eliza loved churches. They were so old and full of love and serenity.

"You know, I've never been in a real church before." Clary admitted. "They give me the creeps."

Eliza glanced back at her, a wry smile on her face. "Oh, I love them." She breathed. "My brother frequented the Westminster Abbey in London while he was there. He brought me pictures and it's really beautiful. I can't wait to go once I turn eighteen."

Jace was staring at her like he didn't recognize her at all. Clary's face was passive as Eliza explained the different areas of the church.

"The section where the pews are is called the nave. We're in the apse currently. And the altar is always located in the east part of the church, and that's where the priest always gives the Word." Eliza gazed up at the altar, taking in the beauty of it.

The altar of the Diamond Street church was tall, made of a fantastic granite and adorned with a red cloth. A slab of gold stood behind the altar, etching out figures of religious saints.

When she looked back down, Jace was kneeling in front of her, his hands searching on the floor. "Is he _praying_? Right now?" Clary whispered to Eliza.

She shook her head in response. "I'm looking for weapons." Jace replied. Dust rose under his hands as he continued his search.

"In a church? Are Shadowhunters Catholic? Do you know the Pope?" Clary asked.

Eliza smiled. So many questions. "We aren't tied to any specific religion. Because every religion has its own belief on demons, they all believe in us. So, we have a sort of deal with the churches or mosques or temples or whatever have you and we can store weapons in them in case of an emergency." Eliza told her.

"And you? Are you Catholic?" Clary inquired.

Jace chuckled quietly and Eliza giggled, shaking her head. "No." She said, her laughter dying off. "They're a little too pure for me. I appreciate all religions with sound interest."

"If you're done with your theology lesson, I've found it." Jace really did sound annoyed.

Eliza rolled her eyes and knelt down next to him, Clary following suit. The Angel's rune was etched onto one of the stones on the floor. Jace took out his stele and pressed the tip of it to the rune. The top of the stone slid back with a slight whirring noise, revealing to them a wooden box.

Jace lifted the box from the floor and opened it. Clary asked what all was in the box. "Let's see." Jace murmured, satisfied with the find. "We've got some blessed knives." He glanced at Eliza and she flashed her wrists, glints of silver from her knives showing. "Won't need those, then. We've also got some silver and steel blades and some holy water, a little bit of electrum wire, protection charms, silver bullets for the Moon Children, a few stars of David, crucifixes-."

"Well, Jesus." Clary breathed out.

Jace cracked a smile. "Yeah, he didn't fit in the box. Sorry."

Clary smacked him on the arm. "We're in a church. You can't make a joke like that!"

Jace shrugged. "You can if you aren't a believer." He told her. He took out a few vials of holy water and pocketed them.

"You don't believe in religion? Or Jesus, at least?"

He shook his head, saying no. "It's the one thing Liz and I definitely don't agree on." She gave him a disapproving look, but neither of them said anything. "Just because there are demons doesn't mean there's anything else." He picked up a knife in the box and handed it to Eliza to look at. "I've sent at least five hundred demons back to wherever the hell they come from. I've been doing it for years. But I've never seen an angel and I've never met a person who has." Eliza, not very satisfied with the knife, gave it back to Jace to put in the box. "Anyways, my father believed in God. It didn't help him when he was murdered." The variety of the colors from the stained-glass window threw blocks of color on his face as he spoke, his eyes looking at the box with intensity. "So, maybe God does exist but if he does, he sure as hell doesn't care about us."

Eliza tried to hold her tongue, but it was in vain. "You don't believe in him because your father died? That's almost childish, Jace." He whipped back to look at her, a poisonous look on his face. "My entire family died. I lost everyone. But I still believe in God. He may not be the joyful Santa Claus version that everyone wants, the version where he can do no wrong. I think God can be cruel and mirthless. He isn't all sunshine and rainbows. Take a look at the Old Testament of the Bible and you'll know what I mean."

Jace said nothing to her. Clary stared back at the two of them, waiting for something to happen. Eliza snatched a vial of holy water from the box and drank it dry. "Let's go. We've got a life to save."

* * *

The hotel was as disdainful as Eliza expected a vampire's lair to be. It was abandoned of any human life, and it showed on the outside. It looked like it was falling apart, and it probably was.

The vampire's (she suspected, anyways) had rearranged the sign, turning the N into an R and making their lair the Hotel Dumort, instead of Hotel Dumont.

"Dramatics." Eliza muttered. "You'd make a great vampire, Jace." She told him. He didn't answer so she looked over at him. He was on high alert, his entire body tense. She could see the cords of muscle tightly wound in his arms.

"It means 'of death'." Clary observed. "How fitting."

The windows of the old hotel were boarded over with slabs of wood and the door had been completely bricked up. There was no way inside.

"How are we going to get inside?" Clary asked. "They've boarded it all up."

Eliza saw the look on Jace's face. The same look he had every time they were out hunting for a demon or rogue Downworlder. Jace got his kicks from hunting. He had killed more demons than anyone else their age and she knew he loved doing it.

"We're going to break in." Jace sounded giddy, as if the idea of a decrepit vampire hotel wasn't enough. They had to break into the decrepit vampire hotel.

Jace started to cross the street to get to the abandoned building and looked back to ensure that the girls were following him.

Eliza jerked on Clary, pulling her out of the dim yellow light from one of the only streetlights that was still working on the street. Her hand was tight around the younger girl's wrist. "Don't get in the light. You may not see them, but they can see us." She warned quietly.

Eliza could feel the hot pulse of Clary's blood from holding her wrist. Clary withheld every right to be nervous but if she got any worse, Eliza was sure the vampires would hear them just from Clary's blood. Not only that, but Clary was a loud walker. Shadowhunters learned to be shadows, to mold into the darkness and to be as silent as the darkness.

Clary may have been a Shadowhunter by blood, but she certainly wasn't one by training.

The alley Jace led them to was full of molded garbage and old cardboard boxes. Eliza stepped forward and something crunched under her foot. The other two stopped, looking at her. Gingerly, she lifted her foot and peered down.

"Is that…?" Clary swallowed, a sick look on her face.

"A bone." Jace's voice was hollow. "Cat or dog, more than likely."

Eliza stepped around the bone. "We're definitely in the right place, then." Clary mumbled.

Jace searched for a door or a way in, but found nothing. "There's got to be a way in. This is the delivery entrance." He was silent for a minute, an unnerving expression on his face. "It's probably underneath all this trash. We'll have to move the Dumpster."

Eliza made an unsatisfied noise. "Just how I imagined spending my night. Trifling through vampire trash."

Jace had already moved to the Dumpster, hands braced on one side of it. Eliza walked over and nodded Clary to her side. "I saw we tip it over. It'll be easier than moving the whole thing." Jace suggested.

Eliza almost gagged as the thick smell of the garbage wafted into her nose.

"I don't believe you should be doing that." The voice didn't belong to Clary or Jace.

Eliza glanced at Jace, his hand on his belt. He looked just as surprised as she felt. A surge of relief went through her. Jace was hardly ever surprised. Eliza stretched her fingers as she peered down the alleyway. "Who's there?" She called out.

A murmur of Spanish came from the person. "No, I don't think you come from around here at all." Eliza recognized the voice as male.

He stepped from the shadow into the light. He had to be the same age as Jace and Eliza, or not much older than them. He was a few inches shorter than Jace. Eliza appreciated the honey color of his smooth skin and the luminous fashion of his big dark eyes.

"You really should not be here." The boy cast a glance up at the high windows of the hotel. "There are dangers that lurk here."

Eliza's body loosened. He wasn't a threat. Her nose tingled at the proximity of the vampires inside the hotel. "I'm sure we can take care of ourselves, thank you." The sugar of her voice had a sickly sweetness to it.

She saw the boy frown as he pointed to the Dumpster. "What are you doing with that?"

Eliza waited for Jace to provide some theatrical lie. Impressive words that would deceive the boy before them and make him leave. He let her down. "I think there's a cellar door behind the Dumpster. We want inside the hotel."

The boy rattled off in Spanish, his words a fascinating blur to Eliza. She knew several languages, Spanish not being one of them. Her father had deemed Spanish too trivial, something everyone would know. She had learned Ancient Greek, Latin, French, Arabic, Mandarin, Hebrew, Hindi, and Russian. She knew a spot of Italian and Spanish, but not very much of it. Not enough to make out whatever he was saying.

"The hotel is cursed, haunted if you will." The boy told them. He murmured a bit more in his foreign language and shook his head at them. "Here, I will take you back to the subway." Jace told him there was no need, they knew the way perfectly fine. The boy's soft laughter bounced off the walls. "I should hope. If I am with you, no one will think to bother you. Please, I don't want you to have any trouble on your way home."

Jace's jacket rippled with movement, flashing the weapons tucked in his belt. Eliza felt dread creeping up on her. What was a mundane boy doing out in the late hours of the night? Or maybe the early hours of the morning. Eliza wasn't sure what time it was, but it had to be past two or three in the morning.

"So, how much are the vampires paying you to ward people away?" Jace asked the boy. His tone left no room for discussion.

The boy looked back at the mouth of the alley behind him. When he looked back at Jace, his thin lips were pressed in a hard line. "I don't know what you're talking about." The boy responded, his voice thinly veiled.

"You don't lie very well, boy." Eliza's green eyes glittered in the moonlight. She took a step towards him, ignoring Jace's command of her name, his voice strained as she continued to walk towards the boy. She was feet away from him. She could make out the thin curve of his mouth, the shape of his dark eyes. "What are the Children of the Night giving you?" She sounded sweet as ever, but there was a dark look in her eyes. "Do they pay you in money or promises? Did they promise you that they'd make you like them, immortal? Just for the slim task of keeping watch for them? I can't imagine a life where I could never step into the sunlight again." There was a deep abyss to her voice, an unfathomable sense of longing that she couldn't quite place.

The boy stared back at her, seemingly unmoved by her words. "My name, _vidente_ , is Raphael." _Vidente_. She recognized the word from her minute amount of Spanish education. It meant 'fey'. He thought she was one of the Fair Folk.

"I am not one of the fey, my friend." She sounded cold and warm all at the same time. "Though I promise I can be just as cruel." She fiddled with the knives on her wrist, making sure he saw them. "Now, answer my question or I'll show you how like the fey I can be."

Raphael looked at her with a mixture of contempt and admiration. She didn't care for the look in his eyes, thought she was sure he didn't care for the look in hers either. "The blood-drinkers have been here for a long time. They came before the hotel saw the end of its time. Everyone has heard them, their laughter and the sounds that they bring with death. And what can be done? Nothing because they are vampires." Her look told him to continue speaking, to tell her everything he knew about the vampires in the hotel. "I know of people who have seen the _vampiros_. Some boys ventured into the hotel one night as a joke, to kill the blood-suckers. They went in and never came out. I lost my brother that night."

Eliza felt a small twinge of sympathy for him, deep in her heart. The loss of a brother. She pushed it away. That was what the mundane got for traipsing into a vampire lair.

"This is the reason I warn you away. Not because of silly promises of immortality. If you go in, you will not come out." Raphael's voice was melancholy and far away.

"My friend is in there and we're going to get him out." Clary said from behind her.

Raphael pursed his thin lips. "Then I cannot persuade you, I believe. I wish you well."

Eliza's hands moved in a flash and suddenly she had a thin knife in her hand. The blade twirled over her knuckles and she smiled at him. "I'm a good shot. And Jace and I are pretty decent at killing vampires. The naughty ones, anyways."

She looked back at Jace who had a seraph blade in his hand, admiring it in the light of the moon. The light from the seraph blade shadowed over his eyes, making his cheekbones look sharper. "We'll be fine." Jace sided with Eliza. "We know what we're doing."

Raphael stumbled towards Eliza and then suddenly, Jace was jerking her backwards. His hand was warm on her bare arm. Jace was tense, ready for a fight. As always, Eliza mused to herself.

Raphael held up his hands, indicated he had no ill intent. "I have heard many stories about your kind. The hunters in the shadows." Eliza cracked a dry smile. "Take me with you."

Her smile fell. Was he stupid? "I think not." Jace's voice was clear in her ear. She felt the rise of goosebumps on her skin from his closeness.

"I can get you inside." Raphael pleaded. Jace said no again. "Alright then." Raphael said in a defeated voice. He walked towards them like a man on a mission and used his foot to kick a heap of garbage from the wall. Behind the heap was a metal grating. Raphael leaned over and ripped the grating from the wall. "I believe it goes to the basement." His voice was gruff.

Eliza gently freed herself from Jace's grasp and walked to the hole in the wall. The smell of the old garbage was overpowering for her sensitive nose. "Excellent." She breathed.

"Thanks, _chico_." Jace clapped Raphael on the back. "We've got it from here."

Eliza looked back at Raphael. His honey toned face had flushed of color. "Just save your friend for me."

Jace placed his seraph blade back in his belt. He rolled his shoulders and said that he'd go first. Eliza watched him slide through the opening, using the grace that only a Shadowhunter possessed. Her chest seized until she heard the soft noise of his feet touching the ground and she released her breath.

"Clary, come first and I'll catch you." Jace called up. Clary looked back at Eliza and she nodded in encouragement. She gave Clary her hand and helped Clary drop through the grating.

Eliza looked at Raphael. "Thank you." She told him quietly. He put his hand on her bare shoulder, his skin cold against hers.

"Liz, get down here. We don't have all night." Jace's voice was impatient.

Eliza stepped away from Raphael. With the agility of a cat, she slipped through the grating. Jace caught her, a surge of electricity jolting her body. The touch of his hands on her bare thighs. Her hands on his shoulders.

"Thanks." She murmured. He didn't respond, putting her on her feet. She adjusted her dress and instinctively checked her wrist bands and her stele on her arm.

Jace took his seraph blade back out to light the room. The ceiling was low to the ground and the concrete of the floor cracked under their feet. Patches of dirt scattered the floor and cockroaches ran. There was a door-less doorway in front of them, leading into the dark.

"Out of the dark we came and into the dark we go." Eliza whispered.

"Are you really quoting Haggard right now?" Jace asked her.

She looked over at him. "It's a fitting quote."

There was a thump behind them. Eliza whipped around, thin knife in her hand. Raphael was on his feet, his knees bent slightly.

"I said-." Jace started, voice high with anger.

Raphael nodding, standing straight. "I heard you. I just didn't listen. And you won't leave me for dead. You're better than that." He waved a careless hand.

Jace's face hardened. He looked at Eliza. "What do you say? Leave him for the _vampiros_?"

She concealed an amused look at his worthless Spanish. "We'd better not." She decided in a tired tone. She looked at Raphael. "Lead the way, mundane." She stepped aside and put her hand out.

He walked past her to the door. Eliza looked up at Jace to see that he was already staring down at her. "Maybe if you didn't use that damn tone with the mundanes, they wouldn't follow us like puppies into a brutal death." He murmured to her.

"Oh, not the mundanes." She feigned concern. The green of her eyes was bright in the dim light of his angel blade. "Imagine what you'd do if I turned myself and my damn tone to you?" She smirked and walked ahead of him, leaving him wordless and slack-jawed.

* * *

The hotel had been beautiful in its hay day. Eliza could see it in the rotted designs of elegance on the walls, the old stair banister. Well, what was left of the stair banister, anyways. The vampires had ripped it away. What use did they have for stairs when they could fly?

The only set of stairs the vampires hadn't chopped away was the set near the laundry room. Clary coughed, the layer of dust on the stairs rising slightly. Raphael shushed her immediately. "They'll hear you. Be quiet."

Eliza pushed her hair back from her face. The strands around her face were damp with sweat. She wished she had something to pull her hair back. How the hell was she supposed to potentially fight with her hair in her face?

Raphael led them up the stairs, the boy's shoulders squared tensely. The door in front of them indicated that the lobby of the hotel was just on the other side. Jace moved to be beside Raphael and he pushed the door open slowly.

The room in front of them was empty, save for a moth-eaten carpeting and decaying floorboards. The grand staircase had been torn apart, only the higher of its stairs remaining.

"So, I get that they fly, but is it necessary to rip the stairs away?" Clary whispered.

Raphael's dark eyes shined with excitement as he turned to look back at them. "It's a sign. A sign that this is _their_ place." The excitement in his hushed voice gave Eliza the chills. She was growing less and less fond of the mundane as seconds passed.

"Have you ever seen one of them?" Jace asked him. "One of the vampires?"

Raphael shook his head as he locked eyes with Jace. "No, I have not had the misfortune. But I know of them. They have skin the color of snow. They are thin, too thin to be human, but they are stronger than humans. And they are beautiful. Terribly beautiful." His voice was wistful, like he longed for something inside his words.

Eliza's mouth turned down. Clary asked where the vampires were. They hadn't seen any of them. Eliza fought the urge to look up. "Higher ground, most likely. It's nearly dawn and they really hate the sunlight."

She didn't roll her eyes as both Clary and Raphael glanced up towards the ceiling. When he looked back down, Eliza caught a glimpse of a stark white scar at the base of Raphael's throat. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to make out the peculiar shape of it.

"I don't like the feeling I have. We should go back to the servant stairs." Clary mumbled. "It's too open."

Jace half-agreed with her. "You know that you're going to have to call out for Simon, right? Yell and hope he recognizes it's you."

Clary's face went pale. She looked as if she were about to speak before the shriek cut her off.

By the time Eliza turned, she had both of her knives out. Raphael was gone. There was no sign that he had even existed at all. No marks in the dust from his feet touching the ground. There was nothing.

"Shit." Eliza hissed. Neither Clary nor Jace questioned her. Jace was already moving towards the arch at the other side of the room. "Jace!" She whisper-yelled. "Jace, wait!" Her feet were silent as she darted after him.

She grabbed him by the bicep, her fingers tight around his bare skin. "Something is-." He held his hand up, shushing her.

The ballroom was empty. The white marble flooring was cracked everywhere. The rails of the balconies were covered in rust and coated with thick layers of dust overtop. Cobwebs covered the room, swaying gently in the breeze.

In the middle of the room was Raphael. Clary breezed past Eliza and Jace, running to the boy.

"Something's wrong, Jace. I don't feel right." She whispered.

He looked over at her, his golden eyes frowning as his mouth did not. "I know. I've got it handled. Don't worry." He assured her.

Eliza frowned at him. Surely, he didn't think the same thing that she thought. Which, her thought wasn't far-fetched at all. It made sense to her. And she and Jace thought the same way sometimes, it wasn't unusual for them to have the same idea.

"No, I am fine. I thought I saw…" Raphael whispered. "It was nothing. Just a shadow."

Jace's expression was cold as he stared back at the boy. "We're returning to the servant stairs. There's nothing here."

Raphael said that was a great idea. He started walking for the door, passing by them. Eliza stiffened as he walked by them. Jace let him go a few more steps.

"Raphael." Jace called, calm as ever. Raphael turned, dark eyes bright. Jace's knife flew from his grasp.

Jace had good aim. Not Eliza good, but she commended him all the same. His aim was decent enough that even though Raphael moved quickly, the blade still stuck in his chest. Jace had thrown hard enough that the impact sent Raphael fell to the cracked marble floor.

"Jace!" Clary growled. She went to move to go check on Raphael. Eliza put her arm out and pushed Clary backwards.

Jace made a run for Raphael, lunging at him. Raphael moved quicker. A guttural scream escaped his mouth as his hand closed around the cross-shaped hilt of Jace's knife. It fell from his grasp, hitting the floor.

Jace took out his seraph blade, the translucent blade illuminating the room with a blue sheen. Eliza saw the spread of red that came from Raphael's chest.

Raphael's laugh echoed through the room. As he smiled, Eliza noticed his pointed incisors. "You missed my heart, Shadowhunter."

Jace grabbed him by the shirt with his free hand. "You weren't supposed to move."

Eliza no longer felt Clary pressed against her arm. She half-glanced back. Clary had taken several steps back, her green eyes wide with fright.

Eliza slipped one of her knives from her wrist. "When did you figure me out?" Raphael asked after he spit, his saliva tinged red. His accent had faded, like it had never existed at all.

"I had a hunch when you showed up in the alley. And then I saw your scar." Jace admitted.

Raphael glanced back at Eliza. "Your feet didn't mark the dust." She told him. "We trespassed." Her eyes went to Jace. "We're outside the Covenant."

Jace's tawny eyes flashed. He knew. Of course, he knew.

Raphael made a _tsk_ ing sound. "I always heard you Shadowhunters were clever. But you don't seem so clever now." One of his thin fingers pointed up to the ceiling.

"Liz." Jace's voice was strained.

She lifted her head. The previously empty balconies were filled with people. Pale white faces, blood red mouths. A sick feeling settled in her stomach. She looked back at Jace. "He summoned the vampires when he screamed." She informed him.

She saw Raphael grin at Jace. "There are too many of them and not enough of you." Raphael's grin was monstrous.

And Jace…He had the look on his face. The murderous one.

"Maybe we can use him as a hostage?" Clary was then close to Eliza, her voice low. Eliza looked at her quickly. When her eyes scoured the room, she saw more vampires filling the arched doorway.

"It's all we've got." Eliza murmured.

Clary half-smiled. "Jace, stand him up." She called to Jace, her voice a little rickety.

Jace glanced at Eliza and she nodded only once. Jace maneuvered off Raphael and pulled the vampire boy to his feet. Eliza knew Jace had his knife at Raphael's back.

Clary looked at Eliza. Eliza gave her a nod of encouragement. Clary looked at the oncoming vampires. "Stop or Jace puts the knife through Raphael's back." She told them.

A quiet wave of laughter ran through the vampires. Raphael let out a cry of pain. Eliza sheathed her throwing knife and took out her seraph blade. It glowed brightly in the dark room. "If you don't think Jace will kill him, take it from me. I will shove this seraph blade into his heart so quickly, he won't even know he's dead until I take it out."

One of the vampires stepped forward. He was a tall thin blond guy with only one earring. She recognized him from the party. "They're Shadowhunters. And that one," he pointed to Eliza, "is protected by Magnus Bane."

A murmur went through the crowd of vampires. Another came forward, a small Asian girl with bright blue hair. "They're trespassers." She countered. "They've killed ours and now that they're outside the Covenant and the _protection_ of warlocks, I saw we kill them."

The blond boy looked annoyed with her. "Where is your master?" Jace asked them.

"Our master is in Idris. She is on business leave there." The boy replied.

Jace and Eliza shared a look. Eliza put her seraph blade back up, the room going dimmer. "I'm very familiar with the order of Downworlders." Eliza told them. "If your master is on business in Idris, she left someone to lead in her absence." Her eyes were locked on the blond vampire. "Who would that be?" The way she looked at him, it was like she was seeing only him. No one else in the room existed.

"Raphael." The boy told her.

The blue-haired girl let out a noise of disapproval. "Jacob, shut up!" She hissed at the boy.

Eliza twirled around, smiling brightly at Jace. He had a hard look on his face, not at all matching hers. "It gets better and better." She turned back around, facing the horde of vampires. "Here's how this is going to go. You left Magnus' party with a little brown rat. He belongs to us. Give us the rat and we'll give you Raphael. Am I understood?"

Her green eyes flashed dark. The blue-haired girl stared back at her, a challenging look in her eyes. "You want a rat…For Raphael?" She asked slowly, making sure she was correct.

"Yes." Eliza replied evenly. "But he isn't just a rat. He's a mundane. A human. And since that is the case, you've violated the Law." Another murmur swept through them. "So, you're going to give us the rat and we'll hand over Raphael."

She could hear the loudness of Jace's wracked breathing. A boy stepped forward, he was a thin African American with long dreadlocks. "Is this your rat?" In his hands he held a brown rat.

Eliza smiled triumphantly. "Simon!" Clary squealed. The rat moved wildly in the boy's hands, squeaking and squawking.

The boy glanced down at the rat and then back up, a look of disdain on his face. "I'm sorry. I thought it was Zeke. You can have the rat. He bit me like twenty thousand times."

Eliza raised an eyebrow. He bit him? Clary looked at Eliza for direction before stepping to take the rat from the boy.

"Hold on." The Asian girl interrupted. "How do we know they won't kill Raphael after we hand over the rat?"

Clary was beside Eliza, her head high. "We'll give you our word."

Eliza looked at her, an amazed but uncertain look on her face. She heard the soft murmur of Raphael's Spanish. No one else spoke. Eliza turned her head, giving Jace a look.

"Clary." Jace started. "Maybe we sho-."

The vampire girl cut him off. "If you don't give the oath, we don't give the rat. You keep your hands on that rat, Elliott."

Simon the rat bit the boy- Elliott- again. The boy squalled out in pain.

"It isn't that big of a deal. It's just a swear." Clary told Eliza. "We have to get Simon back."

Eliza faltered. "Clary, the oath of a Shadowhunter is no silly thing. We're bound to them forever."

Jace made an angry noise. "We'd never break them, but that's exactly the point." Jace interceded on the conversation.

Jacob agreed with Lily. "You must swear that you won't hurt Raphael. Or we keep the rat."

"I'm not going to hurt Raphael." Clary's voice was tensed. "Never."

The girl vampire smiled tersely. She glanced at Jace and Eliza. "You aren't the one I'm concerned with. It's _them_."

Eliza heard Jace swear under his breath, something about hating mundanes she was sure. "Fine. I swear." Jace's voice was dark and annoyed.

"I swear it, as well." Eliza told the vampires.

She shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Swear on your Angel. Say your oath."

Jace said no immediately. "You swear first."

She saw the uncertain looks on the vampires. "No chance in Hell." Lily disagreed.

Eliza rolled her eyes at them. She was beginning to feel restless with the whole situation. "Right. Well, I'm growing bored by all of this." She sighed. Everyone looked at her. "You have a rat. A small brown rat. And we have Raphael, who is serving as your temporary leader while Camille Belcourt is on business in Idris, correct?"

She heard Raphael struggle against Jace. "How do you know that?" Raphael groaned as Jace's grip tightened.

She smiled at him, a dangerous thing her smile could be. "I allied myself with Magnus. And if I'm correct and I usually am, he has a history with Camille. So, I know who she is."

Raphael's head fell, his dark curls falling around his face. Jace had part of a smile on his face, only in his eyes. When Raphael lifted his head, there was a different sort of look in his eyes. Eliza recognized it. It was a look of triumph. "You came all this way for the rat. Shadowhunters will take the honor of swearing first."

Eliza's smile fell. Jace's face erupted in anger. His fingers were white where he held the vampire in his grip. "You heard her earlier. The rat is a mundane. If you kill him, you're breaking the Law." Jace told the vampires.

"He's a trespasser. And we all know that the Covenant doesn't support the protection of trespassers. There is also the matter of what is coming." Raphael told them.

" _What_ is coming?" Eliza asked him.

He grinned madly at her. "We know of the whispers, the rumors. All of the Downworld is talking about it. The return of Valentine. And with his return, the fall of the Accords and the Covenant come. So, what is the life of a silly mundane and three Shadowhunters?"

Jace was looking at Eliza, his golden eyes unreadable. "Tell me more." Eliza told Raphael.

"A week ago, Valentine had a pack of Raveners summoned by some lowlife warlock. He uses his Forsaken to hunt for the Mortal Cup. He brings war."

Something settled low in her stomach. The same feeling of dread she got whenever Valentine was brought up. She was about to say something when Clary lunged for Elliot, seizing Simon from his hands.

Eliza spun around as the vampire girl grabbed at Clary, jerking her back. Clary kicked at the girl and jerked away from her hold. The girl smacked Clary and she reeled.

Jace flung Raphael to the ground and raced to Clary. He took out the vials of holy water and slung them on the vampires. He grabbed Clary by the wrist.

Raphael was on his feet and lunging for Jace. Jace ducked just before Raphael got to him, the vampire's fangs tearing into Jace's shirt.

Eliza saw the rat dart from Clary's hands and scurry towards Raphael. Simon bit down on Raphael's arm. Raphael tore the rat from his arm and tossed him on the ground. Simon darted back to Clary and she scrambled to bit him up.

Eliza had her knives in her hands. She narrowed her eyes, training them on Raphael. One of her knives slipped from her grasp and landed in the vampire's shoulder. He howled, turning back to her.

"There's a first time for everything. You missed." He spat at her. He yanked the knife from his shoulder and tossed it on the ground.

She cocked an eyebrow quizzically. "Did I?" She asked. Her eyes followed Jace and Clary as they moved through the crowd of the vampires, Jace's seraph blade glowing brightly.

Raphael's lip curled back, his fangs gleaming. "Kill them all!" He shouted at his vampires. "I want to kill you myself." His gaze met Eliza's.

She lifted her eyes to stare at Jace. He was looking back at her. She gave him an assuring nod, saying she would be fine. She looked back at Raphael. "You can certainly try."

At the back of the room, the Asian girl had launched herself towards Jace. She screeched as Jace threw his second seraph blade at her.

Raphael lunged at her, knocking her to the ground. His fangs were close to her neck. "You're going to taste good. I can feel it." His voice was low. He sank his mouth onto her neck, biting into her.

She resisted the urge to scream. Instead, she scrambled her hand, slipping the other knife from her wrist band. She shoved it into his stomach. His teeth tore from her neck, cutting more skin as he jerked up. He made a choking noise and grabbed at his throat, coughing up her blood, spitting it on her chest. She yanked the knife out and got to her feet.

She slid onto the floor, grabbing her other knife as she ran towards Jace. She felt the hot flow of blood as it pulsed out of her neck.

As she stood up, the windows exploded over them, showering broken glass. She shielded her face from the sharp debris. She looked up. Large creatures dove from the windows.

Werewolves.


	9. Chapter 9

"LIZ!" She heard Jace shout.

A wolf was about to land on top of her. She slid out from under it just in time. She scrambled towards Jace, running into him like a brick wall. His hand was on her neck, coming back slicked with blood.

"He _bit_ you." He growled.

She tore away from him. "I don't think he liked the way I tasted, either." She told him. His expression didn't change. "Don't worry about it. We've got to get out of here. This has turned into your definition of a situation." She told Jace. She looked at Clary. "You've got Simon?" Clary said yes. "Great. We're getting out of here."

Jace agreed immediately. "They're going to tear each other apart."

Behind them, the wolves were growling at the vampires. The vampires backed away, only Raphael standing his ground as the leader of the vampires.

"YOU CANNOT BE HERE." Raphael shouted at the wolves.

The largest of the wolves shifted into his man form, walking towards Raphael. He was tall and muscular. His hair was long, as the wolves tended to wear it. "We came here for the girl. The human girl." He was pointing towards Eliza. But not at her. At Clary.

Eliza frowned down at Clary. "You know wolves?" Clary, in a quiet voice, said no.

She looked back at the mess. The wolves and the vampires were all looking at them. Raphael laughed at the wolf. "She trespassed into our lair. She is ours."

The wolf-man lunged at him, shifting into his wolf form before he landed on Raphael. That contact, two Downworlders entangled in a mess of fighting, launched the battle. The wolves and the vampires charged on each other.

"This is where we get the hell out of here." Eliza said quietly. But how?

They were surrounded by the fight. They weren't getting out unnoticed.

"Simon!" Clary shouted.

The rat had jumped from her grasp and darted across the floor. He ran towards the pile of drapes. Jace grabbed Clary by the arm to keep her from running after Simon. "He's fleeing like rats are prone to do."

Clary jerked away from Jace. "He's not a rat, you jackass!" She ran after Simon.

Eliza looked at Jace with an amused expression. "You're losing your touch on the female species." He gave her an ungrateful look.

"You're losing a lot of blood."

She shrugged, saying it wasn't a worry. She grabbed him by the wrist, her fingers slipping down into his hand. He held onto her tightly as they dashed to Clary. Behind the drapes was a door. Jace dropped Eliza's hand and shoved his shoulder at the door. It didn't even budge.

"A waste of ruining my shoulder." Jace muttered. His eyes widened as something behind them caught his eye.

Eliza whirled around. One of the wolves was running straight for them. Clary screamed, the sound piercing Eliza's ears.

Clary's hands scrambled, snatching Jace's knife from his belt. She threw it. Eliza watched with wide eyes as the knife flew through the air and sank into the wolf's side.

"Shit." Eliza whistled.

The wolf howled in pain. Three other wolves were running towards them. Behind them, the door exploded open as Jace threw himself at it again. He was holding his shoulder.

Eliza grabbed Clary and yanked her through the doorway. She slammed the door shut just as two of the wolves slammed against it. "Move." Jace's voice was rough. He moved past them, his stele working against the door. He carved a holding rune into the door. "We need to move fast." He put his stele away as the wolves slammed against the door again.

Eliza peered at the dark set of wooden stairs in front of them. If they were like the rest of the hotel, they'd be old and rickety. Possibly rotted. She swayed, her hand covering the wound on her neck.

She could feel the original bite mark on her neck. But then she felt where the skin had been viciously torn apart as she had stabbed Raphael.

"Come on then. Up we go." Eliza muttered.

She stepped onto the staircase first, her hand tight on the railing. She could feel the thin rot of the wood and loosened her grip. Jace was behind her and Clary behind him.

"Are you okay? You're wobbling." Jace whispered, his voice almost muffled by the creaks of the stairs.

She nodded, continuing up the stairs. "I'm tired." She half-lied. She _was_ tired. But she knew she was losing blood. Maybe too much.

The staircase wound up and up. They reached four turns before an explosion happened below them. The wolves had gotten in.

"This is where we run?" Clary asked Jace.

He laughed quietly under his breath. "Yes. This is where we run."

Their feet thundered on the stairs as they ran. The rotted wood moaned under them and nails blew out of the splintered wood. Eliza could faintly hear the wolves below them, coming up for them. When the reached the sixth turn, Jace kicked open the door and shoved them inside. He slammed the door shut, locking it.

Eliza fell against the wall, breathing heavy. Fresh air hit her in the face.

 _Fresh air?_

She opened her eyes. The sky was painted out before her, the hazy blue of oncoming dawn. They were on the roof. She could see the slight lights of those up before the rise of the sun.

"This is how they move from the hotel." Jace said.

Eliza peeled herself off the door and walked carefully to the edge of the roof. No way down. No way up. Of course not, she told herself, the vampires can fly. The street was a dangerous ten floors below them. The fire escape on the side of the building had been mangled by the vampires.

Jace groaned and she looked over at him. He had his palms against his eyes, mumbled to himself to think harder.

Behind him, the door rattled. Eliza's eyes moved around the roof, settling on dark shapes on the far side. Motorcycles.

"Jace. _Look._ " She tore his hands from his eyes. She pointed to the far side of the roof. "Bikes." She whispered.

His face lit up. "By the Angel, I could kiss you right now!" They stared at each other for a quick minute before she turned around and started across the roof.

Once she got to the motorcycles, she pulled the tarp away from them, revealing several glittering bikes. "Beautiful." She murmured, running her cleaner hand across a sleek black roadster.

Jace and Clary caught up and Jace immediately laid claim to the dark red Harley with the flamed design. "Are we stealing motorcycles from the vampires?" Clary asked them.

"Well, it's that or die and I'm not too keen on the dying thing." Eliza told her, swinging her leg over the black roadster bike.

Jace got on the Harley. "Clary, get on. We don't have all day." His voice was high with impatience. Clary said nothing else, getting behind Jace on the Harley.

Eliza's eyes turned to annoyed slits as she watched Clary begin to slide her arms around Jace's waist. She turned, cursing herself for feeling the tinge of jealousy. She took out her stele and shoved the tip of it into the ignition of the bike. It came to life, the sound like music to her ears.

The door to the roof slammed open. Eliza whipped her head back. The wolves. Above them flew the vampires.

"GO!" Jace shouted at her.

She went. The bike lurched forward. In front of her, the wolves leapt out of the way as she drove toward them. Her bike sailed off the roof and went up toward the sky.

It was quite literally smooth sailing. It reminded her of flying a kite on a perfect day, except she was the kite. She quickly glanced behind her, making sure Jace and Clary were there. A flutter of relief filled her as she saw them.

Clary was clutching to Jace as if her life depended on it. Jace had a giddy look on his face as the wind hit him, his mouth open with delighted shouts.

They flew over the city and Eliza made herself content with the sound of the traffic below them. She let herself take it all in. The beauty of the city under her feet. She could see the East River, a shimmer of grey that divided Manhattan from the boroughs of New York City. The rising sun in the distance.

Shit, she thought. The rising sun. The bikes ran on demon energy. Which, had no power once the sun was up. She turned the bike once she saw Queensboro Bridge to head to the foot of the island. Another quick glance back to make sure they were still behind her.

All of a sudden, her bike shook. It sputtered with life. "No, no, no." She groaned. She looked to see the sun, a golden sliver above the waterfront. The bike choked. "Come on." She whispered, her hands tight around the handlebars. "Go for just a few minutes longer." She told the bike.

Jace flew past her, his hand pointed towards a desolate parking lot. She nodded in response, though he didn't see it.

The wheels of his bike skimmed the top of a truck on the highway and she just barely missed it herself. Her hands were holding on so tightly, her fingers were white. Jace's bike hit the asphalt hard. Eliza turned away, not wanting to see the end of that contact.

As the tires of her bike got closer to the ground, she had the unsettling feeling that her bike was not going to end well. Just as the front tire graced the parking lot, she stood up and jerked her stele from the ignition. And then she let go. By some miraculous act of God or the Angel himself, she landed a backflip, her feet steady on the ground.

Across the parking lot, Jace and Clary were on the ground, their bike flipped over. Clary was lying in a puddle. The sun had lit the parking lot up. The bikes were gone, turned to ash. Jace wobbled as he stood. The sleeve on his shirt was torn away, a long abrasion on his left arm. His beautiful face was covered in dust and blood, wet with sweat.

And then there was Simon. No longer a rat. Hugging Clary.

"Liz." Jace's voice. He was looking at her, his face scrunched. She stumbled towards him and as she fell forward, he caught her. "Damn it, Liz." He murmured.

Black tinged her sight, her entire body feeling heavy. "I'm just tired." She tried to stand but her legs wobbled beneath her, sending her back into Jace's arms.

"Is she okay?" Clary called. She and Simon were walking towards them.

Jace didn't tear his gaze from her to answer. "No. Raphael bit her."

She heard Clary suck in a breath. "Is she going to…?"

Jace shook his head, saying no quietly. "She would have had to ingest his blood to Turn." He moved her hair away from her neck. She saw where the pale blond of her hair was caked in dried blood. Jace sucked in a deep breath. "Shit." He whispered. His fingers were careful as they danced along the edges of her wound. "He could have killed you."

Eliza smiled weakly. "I think that was the point." Her laugh was hollow. "I really don't know why you're worrying. I can make it back."

But her head was resting on his shoulder and the darkness around her sight was getting thicker and closing her eyes sounded like the best idea.

"Liz?" Jace's voice was soft in her ear. She could feel his breath, warm, on her neck. "Liz, you can't close your eyes. You have to stay awake." She tried to respond but the darkness was too much, too inviting. "Lizzie…"

Lizzie. He'd never called her that before. The most affectionate he ever got was calling her Liz, and that didn't count because others called her Liz. Her name on his lips was the last thing she ever before the darkness consumed her.

* * *

She woke up in the infirmary room. There was a thick bandage on her neck, the pain dull but evident. Jace was at her bedside, his hand clasping her own. His other arm was in a sling.

"Hey." Her voice was dry and raspy.

His smile lit up the world. She had never noticed before, but one of his incisors was chipped. How had that happened? "Well, it's about time. You've been out for over three hours. You missed Hodge's lecture."

She grimaced, sitting up. He watched her carefully as she got comfortable. "A lecture that was, I bet. What did he say?"

Jace's smile faltered and he half-shrugged. He leaned forward. "Oh, you know. He's mad we- and by we, I mean myself- lied to him about the party last night. He said he couldn't ever trust me again. There was some stuff about breaking the Covenant and possibly getting kicked out of the Clave, bringing shame on the house of Wayland. What else is new?"

She laughed quietly, shaking her head at him. "Your shoulder?" He told her it had been dislocated and was healing up quickly. She took the time to look around the room. Simon was occupying another bed, Clary and Isabelle fussing over him. Alec was sitting on the windowsill, a sour expression on your face.

"Alexander, you look positively nasty." She called to him.

He looked over at her, his blue eyes bright. He left his seat and walked over to her bed. "Not nasty, I'm amused."

She wrinkled her nose and shook her head once. "It isn't a good look on you."

He grinned down at her. "You know, I always knew you'd get your ass handed to you by a bloodsucker, but damn, Liz." His grin fell, turning to a disapproving frown. "He could have killed you."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, but he didn't."

"That's not the point, Lizzie." Jace muttered. So, it hadn't been part of a dream. He had called her Lizzie. "He bit you. Imagine what would have happened if you hadn't been able to get him off you."

"I guess I would have bitten him back."

A sick feeling rose in her stomach. No, she would have rather died than done that. Biting a vampire and ingesting the blood meant being Turned. Granted, if she would have gotten back to the Institute in time, she could have drowned her system in holy water to purge herself. But that didn't sound like a fun time either.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Clary leave the room, a red tint to her cheeks. Alec followed her out, a determined look on his face.

"You absolutely would not have." Jace said, his voice stern. His golden eyes were dark.

Eliza cracked a smile. "No. I wouldn't have." She mumbled. "Imagine how awful a vampire I'd be." Her laughter cracked. "I'm already pale enough."

Jace didn't smile back. "You'd have to deal with Raphael too. And I got the hint that you don't particularly like Camille Belcourt?"

Involuntarily, her nose wrinkled. "I've never really met her. But she and Magnus aren't on good terms. You know how they say a woman scorned? Well, imagine a warlock scorned. It's much worse."

The door to the infirmary slammed back open and Alec walked in, his walk dazed. "Everything okay in here?" He asked, his voice tight.

* * *

Her favorite place in the Institute was the greenhouse. It was quiet, the only person ever really inhabiting it being Hodge when he came to check the plants.

Her neck itched, the wound healing slower than other wounds normally did. She found a nice spot among the violet anemones. She settled in, throwing the blanket over her legs. She placed the tisane Hodge had made her on the floor and adjusted until she was comfortable. She opened her book and began sinking into a different world.

Condon's _Manchurian Candidate_ was one of her favorite books.

 _Magnus, I'm home, by the way._

 _It's about damned time, Eliza! Are you alright?_

 _Nice vampire bite on my neck, but I'm otherwise in decent condition._

She was well into the book when she heard voices. She had just reached the part where Shaw realized he was a sleeper agent for the Communists, one of her favorite parts.

Her tea was gone, the leftover droplets were cold. She closed the book, noting what page she was on. She stood, gathering her things up and tossed the blanket over her arm.

The clock chimed. Midnight. "The witching hour." She murmured. She followed the sound of the voices to the back of the greenhouse. The morning glories had bloomed, beautiful in the light of the moon.

And there, in the middle of the room, were Jace and Clary. Kissing. His arms were around her, her hands in his hair.

Eliza muffled whatever noise was about to escape her mouth. A flap of wings distracted her. She looked up. Hugo was perched on a branch above her. Her mouth curled in distaste.

"Eliza?" Jace's voice resonated within her.

She jerked her head up, mouth open in surprise. "Oh, dear." She murmured.

His eyes flashed. Clary's face was a dark red. "How long have you been here?" Jace asked her.

Her mouth worked in awkward fashion as she tried to form words. She clamped her mouth shut and then found her words. "As in the greenhouse? Or as in the world? I have an answer for both." His shoulders slumped and he let his arms fall from around Clary. Eliza licked her bottom lip anxiously. "I've been in the greenhouse for a few hours. I've been reading." She held up her book, waving it at them slightly.

Jace nodded thoughtfully. "Right. I forgot you come up here to read. We wouldn't have come up here if we'd known you were here. I thought you were asleep in your room."

She clutched her book back to her chest. "I didn't mean to interrupt." Surprisingly, her voice was neutral. Like she didn't care that she'd just walked in on them making out. "I heard voices and I thought I was alone." Neither of them said anything. "I'll be going, then." She spun on her heel and walked away, a heavy feeling in her chest.

She let her feet lead her down the stairs and down the winding halls. She wasn't exactly sure where she was going.

She wound up outside Alec's door. She knocked once and waited for him to answer. The door opened slowly but he was no where in sight. She walked inside and the door shut.

"You're crying." Alec's dry voice noted.

Was she? She hadn't noticed. She dropped her things on his desk and sat down on his bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She said no but the words came out anyways. She told him how she had been reading _The Manchurian Candidate_ in the greenhouse to clear her head and just get away from everything and how she'd heard the voices. Voices that had belonged to Jace and Clary and then she had seen them kissing.

Alec sat down beside her and put his arm over her shoulders. Neither of them said anything, the silence of it comforting.

"Your favorite book is _The Manchurian Candidate_?" Alec asked, laughter flowing from him.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes? Is there something amusing about that?"

Alec said no, still laughing. What was his deal? "It's just an odd book to consider a favorite."

* * *

They were asleep when the banging on Alec's door commenced. Eliza had a dark look in her eyes as she got out of the bed and opened the door.

Jace was standing there, with Clary. Clary had her sketchpad and a coffee mug in her hands. "Liz." Jace noted her. And the fact that she was still fully dressed in her black silk pajama set.

"It's late. What on earth are you all doing awake?" She asked.

Jace raised an eyebrow at her. "I could ask you the same thing."

She heard the imprint of Alec's feet on the floorboards as he walked to the door. He had fallen asleep in his sweater and pajama pants. "We were asleep." He yawned.

Jace's eyebrow twitched. "Before all of your infernal knocking, anyways." Eliza murmured. "What's the deal?"

Clary showed her the coffee mug. "I pulled this out of my sketchbook."

Eliza stared back at her. And then the mug. Then the sketchbook. And then back at Clary. "I'm sorry?" They were the only words she could conjure.

Clary nodded. "I drew some runes and then…I just pulled it out. But that's not the point. The point is that I know where the Mortal Cup is. My mom hid it in a deck of tarot cards she gave to Madame Dorothea."

"The hedge witch?" Eliza asked Jace. He said yes. "Well then, why are we still standing here? We have to tell Hodge."

The four of them went to wake Izzy, who was roused from her slumber wearing a pink sleep dress. They dragged themselves to the library to talk to Hodge.

It had taken mere minutes for them to decide that the capture of the Angel's Cup would be left to them.

"I'm so in." Isabelle said.

"No. There are skilled Shadowhunters in the city right now looking for the Cup." Alec told them. "Let's just give the information to them and they can do the rest." Jace frowned at him, saying that was a dumb idea. He said it wasn't that simple. "Jace, it is. This is all about you and your deadly addiction to dangerous things."

Jace said nothing of Alec's remark. "Well, Dorothea trusts us. She won't trust anyone the Clave sends." Jace said. "Besides, imagine the glory! We'll be remembered in Nephilim history forever once we return the Mortal Cup!"

Hodge quietened Jace with shushing noises. "Jocelyn only ever intended for Clary to be able to find the Cup. No one else."

Alec nodded. "She should go alone."

Eliza looked at him, bewildered. She knew he didn't like Clary, but suggesting she go alone was dumb on his part. "She can't." Eliza told him in a quiet voice.

Jace set his jaw as he stared his _parabatai_ down. He had a cool look on his face. "Well, Alec, if you're afraid of fighting off a couple Forsaken, you should just stay home." Eliza narrowed her eyes at Jace. What was their issue lately?

They weren't acting like the brothers she knew they were.

"I'm not afraid of anything." Alec said, his voice tight.

Jace smiled. "Liz? What do you say? You up for some fun?"

The Cup…What was it about the Mortal Cup? Something prickled in her mind. It was important. Too important. It had to be recovered and given to the Clave. No matter what.

Her gaze met Jace's. Green eyes against golden ones. "Always. Someone has to keep you from doing something stupid."

Jace cracked a half-smile. "Good. It's settled. We're going." Jace licked his lips. "We're going to need a car if we're transporting the Cup around the city."

"Simon can drive. And he may have a ride." Clary piped up.

Simon. The mundane? Where the hell was he, Eliza wondered. Jace took the phone on Hodge's desk and handed it to Clary. "Call him. We need him, in an odd and unsettling turn of events."

Clary dialed and made the call. Eliza's fingers fiddled as the conversation occurred. "I don't want the Cup, Simon! I'm gonna use it to get my mom back!"

Eliza stood straighter. She wanted to trade Valentine the Cup for her mother. She couldn't. He couldn't have the Cup.

A few minutes later, Clary had hung up. "We have a ride." She mumbled.

Eliza smiled cheerfully. She adjusted her pajama top. "I'm going to make breakfast. We'll need full stomachs if we're going to be killing some Forsaken and rescuing the Mortal Cup."

No one said anything.

* * *

She yanked on her pants, fastening them around her waist. She put her belt on, making sure it was tight enough to not fall off. She adjusted the sleeves of the black tank top. She laced her boots tight.

Her fingers worked deftly through thick hair, knotting it into the two braids. She winced as she ripped the bandage off her neck. The wound had healed, leaving a ragged scar on her neck, the red contrasting against the porcelain skin. She took her Starkweather sword from the desk and sheathed it on her back.

Jace, Isabelle and Alec were in the weapons room. Alec handed her two seraph blades and she put them in her belt. He handed her a Sensor, which she also pocketed. From the drawer, she took her knife braces and cuffed them on her wrists.

She grabbed two throwing knives off the knife table and etched runes on them. She slid them into her braces.

Alec and Jace resorted to the corner, beginning to Mark each other. Eliza took her stele, drawing every sort of rune imaginable on her skin. Anything would help.

This task was too important to mess up, to go into weak. Soon enough, her pale skin was covered in dark ink.

"Let's go." Jace said once they were finished. He threw a duffle bag over his shoulder and gave Alec the other.

The four of them were met in the library by Clary and Hodge. "Good. Simon should be here at any minute. We should go wait." Clary said after Jace asked if she was ready.

Simon was, in fact, outside when they got there. The rain had become a soft drizzle falling from the sky. Simon got out and opened the back doors of the van, letting them in. Jace and Alec tossed the duffle bags inside. Clary climbed in the front seat, leaving the others to take the seats in the back. Alec sat himself beside Eliza, leaving Jace and Izzy to sit next to each other.

"Hi, Simon." Eliza greeted him kindly.

He glanced back at her from the driver's seat. "Hey. Your neck looks better."

She touched the wound carefully. "Lots and lots of runes and special drinks." She told him.

Jace made an unappreciative noise. "We've more important things to discuss than the condition of Eliza's neck, though it is a very lovely neck."

She shot him a withering look. Simon looked at Alec through the rearview mirror. Alec had his quiver of arrows and his bow across his back. "You've got a really good bow." Simon told Alec.

Alec looked taken aback by Simon's acknowledgement of him, let alone his bow and arrows. "You know anything about archery?"

"Archery camp for six years and on." Simon replied pleasantly.

Simon started the van and began driving through the slight rain. Eliza got comfortable, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't feel well." Eliza told Alec. He asked what she meant. "I mean, I feel the way I did the night we went to Pandemonium. Like something awful is going to happen. Like everything is going to change."

Alec put a comforting hand on her knee. "Don't worry, Liz. We know what we're doing."

She tried to smile but it didn't happen. There was a throbbing deep in her mind. A hammering sort. Like there was a wall inside her head and something was beating against it, trying to tear it down.

She wasn't sure if she wanted whatever it was to happen.


	10. Chapter 10

The rain had stopped once they pulled up to the street Clary's brownstone was on. Jace pushed open the doors and they clambered out of the back.

"Stay while we check for any demonic activity." Jace told Clary and Simon.

Eliza and Isabelle partnered up. Eliza took out her Sensor and they went around the back of the house for the demonic levels. The levels were low, low enough to be dismissed as the Forsaken upstairs. Eliza and Izzy returned to the front of the house, meeting Jace and Alec there.

Clary and Simon were leaned against the van waiting on them.

"The levels are low. We can head inside." Jace reported.

Alec pulled the duffle bag from the back of the van, dropping it on the ground. He sorted through it and pulled out a featherstaff, tipped with two shining blades. He took his bow and arrow quiver from his back and put them away.

"What are you doing?" Jace asked him.

He shrugged, standing up. "The featherstaff is better."

Izzy had the same concerned look on her face that Eliza did. "Alec, the bow-." He cut his sister off.

"Don't worry about it, Isabelle." He told her sharply. "Let's go inside."

"Simon, stay here. We need a getaway car." Jace told the mundane.

Simon had a protesting look on his face. Eliza put a hand on his arm. "We need you. Ready to drive away. Please." He relented, getting back in the van. Eliza looked back at the others. "Let's go thwart a plan for revenge."

The five of them walked up the walkway and Jace pressed open the front door. The smell of death and demon flowed from the entryway.

Eliza's nose burned at the overwhelming smell of demons. She saw that Isabelle's nose was wrinkled up and Alec had a greenish hue to his face. But Jace…Of course he looking as if he were smelling roses.

"This is recent." Jace bemused. "We may have just missed them."

To the side of them was the door leading the Madame Dorothea's apartment. Eliza's skin prickled as Clary walked over to the door. Clary's hand knocked softly on the door.

The door swung open. Eliza's head rang as she took in the woman in front of them. The woman had badger striped hair. She wore robes of bright green and orange. Her turban was an illuminating yellow.

Their eyes met. Eliza's head thrummed. A memory sparked of standing in front of the brownstone and briefly encountering the woman. No, that had never happened. Had it been a dream?

The woman engulfed Clary in a bone-crushing hug. "Thank God!" After she let Clary go, she opened the door wider and let them all in.

Eliza fought to roll her eyes at the look of the apartment. It was fashioned just as any mundane woman posing as a psychic would decorate her dwelling. Tackily.

The woman sat down in her armchair, her arms resting on the sides. The stench of the apartment threatened to burn holes in Eliza's nose. She felt like vomiting, the stench was so overwhelming. "Have you found your mother?"

Clary said no. "Valentine took her, though."

Dorothea nodded thoughtfully. Eliza looked back at Jace, a dangerously bored look on his face.

"You're upset with me." He told her quietly.

"Am I?" She replied. "I can't imagine why."

He didn't laugh. "It's because of the kiss, isn't it? You saw me kissing Clary."

She fought off a snicker. "As if I have concerned my thoughts with who you share your midnight kisses. Though, I do remember a time where it was _me_ you were sneaking up the greenhouse with to kiss in the midst of the moonflowers." She actually wasn't sure if it was a memory or a dream, but it didn't matter.

Jace's mouth parted slightly. "You remember that?" He asked quietly. "I didn't…what else do you remember?"

She frowned. Was there something else she should have been recalling? The wall in her mind hammered again and she squinted her eyes shut. "No. No." She whispered, pushing everything back.

"Liz?"

She opened her eyes. "Stop asking me to remember. I can't…I don't even understand what I'm supposed to be remembering or if I've even forgotten anything. And my brain…my brain _hurts_." She snapped at him.

She pressed her hands against her temples, a vain effort to try and stop the hammering on the wall.

She turned her attention back to the conversation. Clary was telling Dorothea that she knew where the Cup was and that it was in the apartment. Dorothea's apartment.

"You have it." Jace said, the tone of his voice different from moments ago.

Dorothea rose from her chair, her robes flowing. "I do not. And that is a terrible accusation for you to make."

Alec whistled under his breath and Eliza tightened her hands. "You didn't know." Clary reasoned. "My mother hid it all those years ago and she never told you. In the tarot cards." Clary moved to the table and picked up the deck of tarot cards. She sifted through it, pulling out the Ace of Cups.

"Jace, your stele." Clary said evenly.

He handed it to her. She went to work quickly, tracing something on the back of the card. She turned it over and reached for it. Her hand slid through the card- and did not come out the other side- and she pulled it back out. In her grasp was the Cup of Raziel. A golden chalice, plain but beautiful.

Eliza sucked in a breath. The back of her mind prickled with memory.

 _"You must go to New York and locate the Angel's Cup, girl. And once you have it, call me there and together, we will finish what I started all those years ago." He was tall, tall and intimidating. He was mere inches taller than her, but he seemed to tower over her. His black eyes looked as if they went directly through her, right into her soul. And not in a good way._

 _"Yes, Father." It was her own voice, but it was small. Weak. "I will find the Cup and return it to you."_

 _The smile he gave her was deadly. It was cold and monstrous._

 _"That's my girl. Make me proud, Eliza."_

Eliza stumbled, her head swimming. Her body knocked against Jace's and he steadied her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, not wanting to discuss whatever the hell had just happened. She had called the man her father, but he did not look like Oskar Starkweather. She felt like vomiting.

"It's small." Jace noted on the chalice as he adjusted Eliza, making sure she was standing properly.

"And damaged!" Dorothea exclaimed. Clary looked down at the Cup. Eliza peered over her shoulder. It looked perfectly fine… "Here, let me show you." Dorothea said. She reached forward for the Cup and Clary moved backwards. Jace stepped in front of Clary, blocking her from Dorothea.

"No one lays a finger on the Cup except for the Shadowhunters in this room." He told her, his voice unwaveringly hostile.

Dorothea smiled at him. "Valentine would not be pleased if he was returned the Cup and it was damaged."

Valentine. Valentine. Valentine.

 _Magnus, what's wrong? My head…It hurts._

He was there instantly. _Stop poking around in there. There's nothing for you to remember, little dove._

Nothing to remember. Magnus wouldn't lie.

Jace had his sword out, pointing it at Dorothea's chin. "We'll be leaving now." He told the hedge witch.

Her eyes seemed to gleam, beady under the folds of skin on her face. Nausea waved over her. Nothing here was right. "You can use my Portal." She took several steps back to the curtain that covered the Portal.

"Don't." Jace warned her.

The curtain fell. The Portal behind them was open.

"What the hell?" Alec whispered from behind Eliza.

Eliza trained her eyes on the Portal. There were rolls of thunderous red clouds, shooting black lightning. And there was something…something running, no, rolling towards them.

Everything, every part of her body burned. Demon. "GET DOWN!" Eliza shouted. Jace yanked Clary to the floor. Eliza could barely get her legs to move backwards as the thing, the demon came hurtling through the Portal and right into Dorothea. Her scream shook the room.

The demon encased her body, wrapping around her in a thick haze of smoke. It ruined her body, breaking her apart. Her bracelets popped off, her teeth shooting from her mouth.

"The levels were low!" Jace hissed.

"Because it was still in the Portal." Eliza told him.

He looked back at her, shocked to see her standing. "Get down, Lizzie!"

The demon shrieked before she could tell him that she couldn't move. She had never understood the saying 'frozen with fear' until then. She couldn't move her eyes as what had been Dorothea warped and twisted as the demon overtook her body.

And then Jace was pushing her. "Move! Get out!" He was shouting.

They made it to the foyer of the building. Isabelle slammed against the door, but it didn't budge. "It's…It's spelled or something." She struggled with it.

The room exploded. Not literally, but well enough. Pieces of wood and dry wall debris rained over them. Eliza shielded her eyes.

There was a hole in the wall, opening to Dorothea's apartment. The demon was oozing from the hole, coming towards them.

Jace shouted Alec's name. He reached forward and yanked Alec out of the way of the demon.

Eliza wanted to vomit. The demon was massive, bigger than anything she had ever seen before. The skin of it looked like it had been bruised over and over again. Bones poked through the flesh, thin fingers and thinner arms that were covered in sores. The demon had a skull for a face, no eyes.

She moved back slowly.

"The Cup. Give me the Mortal Cup." The voice of the demon was hoarse and cold. "Give me the Cup and you will be granted the gift to continue your existence."

Eliza felt the need to step forward, to protect her friends. And that was exactly what she did. "I know who you are." Her voice was clear as a summer day, even.

The demon seemed to stare down at her. "And I know who you are, little Nephilim."

Her breath caught.

 _The Greater Demon Abbadon._ Magnus' voice was in her mind. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket after standing the cold of a storm. Sitting near the fire on a cold winter night. She could have cried. _Demon of the Abyss._

"You are Abbadon, the Greater Demon. You're known as the Demon of the Abyss." Eliza told the demon.

She swore it smiled down at her, malicious and cruel. "And you are the daughter of-."

"Enough." Jace was in front of her, pushing her backwards with his arm. "You don't get the Cup." He told Abbadon.

"Then you will all die. And yours will not be as quick as the mortal woman's."

The demon moved towards them. Jace had his sword in one hand and a seraph blade in the other. "I always knew that you Greater Demons were ugly, but I didn't know you'd smell awful too."

Eliza's mouth fell open. It wasn't the time for smart-ass remarks! The demon hissed at him, revealing rows of sharp and crooked teeth.

Abbadon leapt at Jace and he moved out of the way. Both of his blades went into the demon's abdomen. Abaddon swatted him aside with one of its skinny arms.

"Jace!" Eliza shouted. He got to his feet, but his arm was hurt.

Isabelle's glittering electrum whip struck the demon, creating a bloody red welt on its side. Abbadon paid her no mind, continuing towards Jace.

 _She held her short-sword in her hands, looking down at it. Eosphoros. Morning-Bringer. Hers. Made of white gold and_ adamas _. Three rubies on the hilt and a black star etched on the blade, falling down towards the tip._

 _"The blood belongs to a Prince of Hell. Lucifer, in fact."_

She snapped back to reality, pushing the memory away. Her hand reached behind her and took out the sword.

Jace held his second seraph blade in his hand, the blade bright. Abbadon loomed over him. Jace grinned. Isabelle screamed, her whip flicking all over the demon, ichor splaying.

Abbadon struck. Jace fell back. Eliza held her breath. Alec stood in between his _parabatai_ and the Greater Demon. He shoved his featherstaff into the demon.

Abbadon howled and then struck Alec. Alec flew back into the far wall. Eliza's body went cold at the sound he made when he hit the wall and slid down to the floor.

Isabelle made an inhuman noise as she ran towards her brother. Abbadon hit her, sending her reeling back. She made a move to go towards Alec again and Abbadon hit her and she didn't get back up.

Abbadon was looking at Clary.

"Hey, ugly." Eliza heard her own voice amidst Isabelle's screams.

Abbadon turned to her. "Little Nephilim girl. You are not to be harmed. I suggest you stay out of this."

She twirled the hilt of her sword in her hands. "I learned something interesting about my sword." She told him. "It's cursed with the blood of a demon. A Prince of Hell, in fact. Demons don't like it."

With that, she hurled the sword at Abbadon. It stuck inside one of the black sores and the demon howled.

One of his razored hands reached for her and she slid under. She got to her feet quickly and yanked the sword out of the sore. The demon howled out again. She shoved it inside another sore. She was close enough to see that there were things crawling around inside the sores. She fought a gag and grabbed her sword again, tearing at the demon's flesh.

And then something smacked into her, sending her flying into the staircase. Her sword clattered against the stairs, sliding down. Her forehead smashed into the edge of a stair, pain shooting through her. The wind was knocked out of her, her chest burning.

She struggled to lift herself, but got herself to her feet. She looked down and felt blood drip onto her eyelashes and dribble down her face. Jace's seraph blades and sword were stuck inside Abbadon's chest.

"I'll kill you!" Abbadon shouted down at Jace. "Just like I've killed your friend!" He pointed at Alec.

Jace sprung himself onto the banister and onto Abbadon. He clung to the demon's back and yanked his seraph blade from its chest. Repeatedly, he stabbed Abbadon in the back with his seraph blade.

Eliza made quick work of going down the stairs. She grabbed her sword and ran past the demon's legs, slicing the sword against the backs of its legs.

Jace landed lightly on his feet beside her. "You're bleeding." He told her, breathing heavily.

She smiled, breathless. "So are you."

The door flew open. Eliza whirled around. Sunlight streamed in.

Simon?

He had Alec's bow in his hands and the quiver on his back. He loosed an arrow. Eliza watched as it shot over Abbadon's head and went straight through the skylight overhead. Glass poured down and sunlight with it.

Abbadon shrieked. The demon crumpled in the rays of the sun, folding in on itself. Within seconds, the only thing left of the Greater Demon was a scorch mark on the floor.

Eliza let go of a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Her shoulders slumped. Jace grabbed onto her to steady himself, like he had so many times before.

"Are you okay?" She whispered to him.

"I'm fine. You?" She nodded, saying she had been better, but she was okay. He turned around. "Alec. _Alec_."

Jace let go of Eliza and moved, quickly. He staggered to Alec and dropped down beside him. Eliza looked at Clary, who was still holding the Cup.

The Cup.

"Put that away." Eliza told her sharply. Clary fumbled but zipped the Cup into her jacket.

Isabelle was at Alec's side. Clary moved past Eliza to go to Simon. Jace called for Clary to bring his stele and she did.

Eliza moved gracefully, kneeling next to Alec. His face was spattered with blood, his blue eyes unnervingly bright. "Alexander…" She murmured.

"Is it dead? Did I kill it?" He gurgled.

Eliza looked at Jace. His mouth twitched. None of them spoke.

"Yeah. You did." Clary, surprisingly, said.

Alec smiled and then he laughed. Blood bubbled around his teeth. "Keep him still." Jace told Eliza.

"Izzy, help." Eliza told the other girl. Izzy held Alec's legs and Eliza put her hands on Alec's face. "Hey, eyes on me, Lightwood." Her voice flowed softly, but it was demanding as ever. "You did good." She told him with a slight smile.

She let her eyes leave his for only a half a moment to watch Jace's stele move across the skin of Alec's chest. His pale chest was marred open by several gashes. Every rune Jace made disappeared.

"What's wrong?" Izzy asked.

Alec twitched, trying to move his head, but Eliza held him still. "Don't move, Alexander." She warned him. "Jace?"

"The talons…there was demon poison in them." Jace said quietly.

Eliza looked at Alec. "We're going to make sure you're okay, Alexander. I promise." She brushed the pads of her thumbs over his cheekbones. "You can't die on me."

Blood came from his mouth in a thin stream. "You're good, Liz." He mumbled. "I know you think you're like him because you lied but you aren't. You're not V…" His words trailed off. His eyes fluttered shut. The circles under his eyes were a dark blue.

Eliza looked at Jace. "He has to get to the Institute. We have to go now."

Simon and Jace lifted Alec and carried him to the van. Izzy threw a blanket over the backseat and they laid Alec on it. His head was resting on his sister's lap. Simon got in the driver's seat and Clary beside him up front. Jace knelt on the floor of the van beside Alec.

Eliza put her sword back in its sheath and sat down beside Jace. "Drive like hell." Jace told Simon. As Simon started the van, Eliza grabbed Jace's hand.

He glanced over at her. She squeezed his hand gently and said nothing. He put his head on her shoulder as the van lurched forward.

* * *

 _Magnus. Alec's hurt. He's…Everything is wrong, and Alec might die. I need you, Magnus. Please._

Even in her head, she could hear the urgency of her voice.

 _Little dove-._

 _Magnus! It's Alec! He needs help! He needs_ you _. And my head is all fuzzy, I can't think straight. Nothing adds up anymore. Hodge doesn't even seem to know anything about my parents, his cousins._

He didn't respond to her.

She glanced in the infirmary. Hodge was leaned over Alec's bed, Izzy dutifully beside him. And she was stuck outside, with Jace.

Clary was sitting with them. Church had placed himself in Eliza's lap, resigned to the motion of her stroking his back absentmindedly.

She stood as Hodge walked out of the infirmary, Church hissing as he dropped from her arms. "I have done all I can for Alec. I've sedated him. This…I must call the Silent Brothers for this. I will send Hugo immediately. Though if they come…That is not for me to call."

"They have to come." Jace said coolly.

Hodge began walking down the hall. Eliza followed him. She heard Jace scramble to his feet behind her but didn't bother to look back.

"He could die, Hodge." Eliza whispered. "They wouldn't let him die, would they?"

He didn't answer her, and she knew it was because she wouldn't like the answer. He led them to the library.

One of the far windows was open, a puddle of water under it. Hodge sat at his desk and took out a piece of paper and a pen. "All of that pain…for nothing…" He mumbled. "A shame you did not retrieve the Cup."

"We did, though. We got it." Clary said.

Hodge didn't look up. Instead, he had remained still, as if frozen. "I forgot." Jace said quietly. "Alec was…I meant…"

"So, you have it, then? The Cup?" Hodge asked slowly.

Eliza watched as Clary withdrew the Cup from her pocket. Hodge dropped his fountain pen, it clattered against the floor softly.

"Oh, that's it." He whispered. He was from behind his desk instantly. He grabbed Jace by the shoulders. "You have no idea what you've done. Any of you. Especially," Hodge turned to Eliza. "You."

"Me?"

"Don't. You can't. It could kill her." Jace warned their tutor.

What the hell were they talking about? Hodge turned back to Jace. "Never mind that. Look at you, Jace Wayland. You look so like him. So, like your father." Hodge's voice was not reminiscent. It was a hiss of his breath. "Hugin." Hodge called.

Hugo flew down from his perch and straight for Clary. She screamed as the bird clawed at her and yanked the Cup from her hand.

 _"Eliza, Jonathan, these are Hugin and Munin." The man had two birds. Beautiful and black ravens, their feathers sleek._

The memory shifted, forming a new one.

 _The birds were cruel, just as he had trained them to be. "Watch me, sister." His dark eyes gleamed with delight. "Hugin, Munin, attack."_

 _The birds flew in a frenzy as they attacked the training dummy in the basement. Within seconds, it was torn to shreds._

"Hugin." Her voice cut through the screams. The bird stopped, looking at her.

"That will be enough of that." Hodge said to the bird. He held the Cup in his hands, Hugo circling over him.

Clary was on the floor, her face raked with blood. And Jace…Jace was at Hodge's feet, sound asleep.

"What have you done?" Clary asked Hodge.

"Jace is fine. Do not worry." Clary moved to get to Jace but was held back by an invisible wall. A wall that separated her from Hodge, Jace and Eliza. Eliza could no longer see Clary. Hodge turned to Eliza. "You proved useful after all. Even after that stunt you pulled with the warlock, you still knew where your loyalties truly were."

What was he talking about? What loyalties? "I don't know what you're talking about." She told him truthfully.

"No." Hodge sighed. He leaned down and took off Jace's family ring. He slid it onto his own finger.

Hodge was paying her no mind, only looking at Eliza. "You'll know soon enough. Your father is coming."

"My father is dead." She spat at him. "You know that. You were at the funeral. He was your cousin. Oskar Starkweather-."

He turned the family ring three times. "Oskar Starkweather is a figment of your imagination, just like everything else you think you know about your family. None of it is real."

He appeared in an instant. The man from her dreams. Her hands shook at her sides. He was tall and muscular, with broad shoulders. The man you didn't want to pick a fight with. His eyes were dark, almost black. Maybe black. And his hair, the same pale blond as her own.

"Is that the Cup in your hand, Starkweather?" His voice sparked fear inside of her.

"Yes, Valentine, my Lord." Hodge replied.

 _Valentine_.

This was him. The defamed Valentine Morgenstern.

Valentine reached for the Cup, but Hodge backed away. "What you promised me. Give it to me." Hodge said, an edge in his voice.

Valentine smiled down at his lackey. "Oh, yes. A bargain is a bargain, I suppose."

"I want out of here." Hodge told him. "Before…"

Valentine raised an eyebrow. "Before what?"

Eliza steadied her hands. "Before Jace-."

Valentine held up a large hand, cutting Hodge's sentence off. "You don't speak of him." His voice was coated in anger. He looked down at the boy on the floor. "Is he bleeding? I asked for him unharmed."

"It isn't his." Hodge replied quietly. "The Lightwood boy…You said you wouldn't hurt him." He looked down at Jace. "You promised."

Valentine laughed, the cold sound filling the room. "Ah, no, I didn't do that." He told Hodge. "Tell me, Starkweather, what would you do to me if I said I was going to hurt him? Would you kill me? Possibly. But you'd never be able to leave this place."

"Say you won't hurt him and I'll give you the Cup." Hodge's voice was small. He looked so tiny compared to Valentine.

The larger man smiled down at him. He looked like a predator about to kill his prey. "You're going to give the Cup to me anyways." He told Hodge.

After a quiet moment, Hodge handed Valentine the Cup. Valentine eyed the Cup with adoration. Valentine leaned over and picked Jace up, cradling him.

"He may not kill you, but I will." Eliza's voice was surprisingly even.

Valentine turned to look at her. Another smiled played his lips. Cool and amused. "My dear Eliza, how you've matured these past few months." His tongue clucked as he looked her over, taking in the blood. "You're awful dirty."

"Put him down." She took out her sword, pointing it at him. "Put him down or I shove this through your heart."

Valentine laughed quietly. "You'd kill me with the sword I gave you? How cliché and impolite of you, Eliza. I thought I raised you better than that."

She raised an eyebrow. "You didn't raise me." She bit. "I was raised by my parents, Oskar and Seraphina Starkweather."

He looked more amused than ever. He turned his gaze to Hodge. "What is this? Why does my daughter believe she's one of your family?"

Hodge trembled. "I told you…I told you of the spell on her mind. The warlock…He altered her mind to keep her from you…She knew about the Cup and Jocelyn…"

It came crashing through her like a sea of memory.

Valentine. The cottage. Marisol. Jonathan. The ravens. The Cup. Jocelyn. Clary. All of it flooded her, overwhelming.

It mixed with the false memories. The Starkweathers. No, they weren't real. She could see it. Seraphina Starkweather _was_ Jocelyn Fairchild.

"Father." The word was a murmur on her lips, quiet and unsteady.

Valentine beamed down at her. "There's my daughter. My beautiful Eliza. Come with me."

"No." Her voice was loud and steady that time. Powerful. Defiant.

His dark eyes flashed. He looked down at Jace's limp body. "Come with me and I swear I won't hurt him. I swear on the Angel Raziel."

A swear. An oath he couldn't go back on.

She sheathed her sword on her back and stepped to be beside him. He looked over at Hodge, who fell backwards, clutching his chest. And then he turned back to Eliza.

Her head swam. "Come along, child. We have work to do."

Valentine stepped through the Portal and she stepped through with him.


	11. Chapter 11

The room he put them in was clean. So clean that it hurt her eyes to look at it. The white linens were bright on her eyes. There were two wide windows on the wall and on the furthest wall, two oil paintings that flanked a golden mirror.

He had first taken her to a bathroom and given her a rag and a bar of soap to wash herself off with while he went to clean Jace. She had done all she could to her face, scrubbing away the blood and grime. The long gash on her forehead could not be helped, but at least the blood flow had stopped.

She worked with her hair the best she could, wetting it under the water of the sink and clawing the dried blood out. She put as much soap in it as would get the rest of the stain out. She knotted it back in the braids, letting them fall down her back.

He had given her a change of clothes. Her own clothes from Idris. A summery white cotton dress. He came back for her, escorting her back to the room and then disappearing.

He left them alone, leaving Jace to wake on his own. He had cleaned Jace and dressed him in a loose white shirt and black pants.

Jonathan's clothes.

She slid down the wall, her hands gripping the hem of her shirt.

Her hands shook nervously. Her mind was everywhere, rattled and a mess. She couldn't put things in a straight line, she didn't know real memories from fake ones. She brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as her eyes glided across the room.

He was asleep on the cot, his expression peaceful. When he woke up, everything would change. Nothing would be the same.

She was fucked. Royally fucked.

She bit down on her lip, closing her eyes. The door slid open, closing quietly. Her head jerked up, her green eyes wide.

Her father was an intimidating man. His dark eyes were nearly black, intense and dangerous. His shoulders were broad, topping off a muscular body hardened by decades of dedicated training. Silver scars lined his body, years of stele use evident. The sight of him always made her hands shake. She'd learned to control that growing up, he didn't like fear, but now…it had been months since she had seen him. She couldn't control the shaking of her hands, the worrying of her lip between her teeth.

Behind him was another Shadowhunter, one she didn't recognize. The Shadowhunter set the table with eatery and food and then Valentine dismissed the man in a quiet voice.

Her mouth almost watered at the sight of the food. It had been hours since she had eaten, before the fight with Abbadon.

"Eat, Eliza." He told her, voice stern as ever. Her green eyes looked into his dark ones. She would eat no food he gave her. "Eliza, stop being a pertinent little girl and eat. I know you're hungry."

There was no room for arguing. She stood up and joined him at the table. There was one more place setting, for Jace whenever he woke from the mysterious slumber he was in. He put a generous helping of food on her plate and filled her fluted glass full. He gave her one nod, a signal that she could eat.

"You've started braiding your hair. You remind me of your mother. It suits you." He told her. "You look older, even though it has been only months since I sent you here."

Mother. Her mother. Not Seraphina Starkweather. Jocelyn Fairchild. Jocelyn Fray. She'd been hiding out in New York ever since she left Idris. She'd had another daughter, Clarissa. No, Clary. She went by Clary. Eliza remembered meeting her mother, hearing her sister's voice.

Her mother was here, in another room, asleep because of a potion she had taken to avoid her husband- or ex-husband? Eliza figured she was like her mother, they both took drastic measures to ensure Valentine didn't get what he wanted.

Jocelyn put herself in a coma and Eliza erased herself, creating a new person.

Eliza wanted to respond, to say something bitter and cold, but she couldn't get any words to form in her brain.

"Has the little dove forgotten her words?" Her father's words were spoken softly, but the meaning was poisonous.

Little dove. He'd been watching her. He knew about Magnus. She cracked a small smile.

It had to be burning him up on the inside, knowing his daughter was extremely close to a Downworlder, to a warlock, the High Warlock of Brooklyn at that.

His dark eyes glinted. He stood up and moved away from the table. He leaned over Jace's sleeping body, swiping his hair to the side. "Don't touch him." Eliza hissed.

Valentine looked over, a knowing smirk playing his lips. "Ah, the little dove speaks. I thought the warlock got your tongue, Eliza."

She stood up, balling her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "You said you'd leave him alone. Make good on your word like you always do." If there was one thing he was insistent about, it was making good on his word. He never broke a promise.

He set his lips in a line and stood up straight. "So, my sources don't lie. You really do care for the boy. As more than a brother."

Her eyebrows furrowed. Jace wasn't her brother. Jonathan was. Jace was a boy that Valentine had lied to, he had ruined and broken. Just like he had broken her.

"He isn't my brother, you know that." She told him.

Jonathan and Jace were nothing alike. Jonathan was empty, he was hard and cold and wrong. He was everything Jace wasn't, everything Jace couldn't be. Jace was full of life and energy, he was warm and good. It would be difficult to mix them up. Especially for her father.

"But he doesn't. And he won't. When he wakes, Jace becomes Jonathan. Now, you follow along with that or you will be punished, Eliza. Do you understand?"

She shook her head. "I'm not going to lie to him. Not anymore. He deserves better." She hissed.

She had lied to Jace too much, she wasn't going to do it anymore. Valentine's eyes darkened. "Yes. You will. Or others will pay for your mistakes. The Lightwood children. Your sister. They will pay for your disobedience. You've grown to be an excellent liar. Utilize it."

She would have to fold to him, to do as he wished. Telling Jace that Valentine was their father wouldn't be hard. Valentine had raised him, but had raised him as a Wayland. He had raised him away from Eliza, away from Jonathan. And from what she understood, Valentine had been much softer with Jace than he had she and Jonathan.

No, it wouldn't be hard convincing Jace that Valentine Morgenstern, and not Michael Wayland, was his father.

Her skin chilled. She didn't want to picture what he would do to Alec and Izzy, what he would do to Clary. "Fine." She whispered. "He's my brother."

God, she hated giving him what he wanted. But she had to. She had promised to keep everyone safe. Even if it meant lying to Jace, something she swore never to do again.

Valentine chuckled as Jace stirred. "You are a disappointment, my child. I should have let your mother take you when she wanted to."

Her fork fell from her hand. She stared back at him. " _What_?"

He smiled at her, sinister and dark. "Oh yes. After the Uprising, when I dragged her away from that beast that used to be Lucian Greymark, she begged for me to let her go. To let her take you and Jonathan and she would never show her face to me again." His smile fell and his eyes looked wistful, as if he were remembering some lovely memory. "Of course, I told her that she would never have you. You were my children, I fought hard for you. I loved you."

Love? What did he know of love? Nothing.

"Your neck, the scar on it. What happened?" He asked. "It must have hurt."

Her hand flew to her neck, covering the thick scar. She knew it had to look ghastly. A dark red mound of scar tissue on the pale cream of her skin. "A vampire bit me a few days ago. I stabbed him."

The look on his face was almost…proud. "I always knew you would be a great warrior. You just needed the chance to prove it."

"Father?" Jace's voice was small, like a child's. Eliza turned, her green eyes soft. "Lizzie?"

"Jace, come eat. You must be hungry." Valentine told him.

Jace got up and joined them at the table. Valentine served him food and filled his glass. "I don't understand…I…you were dead." Jace murmured.

Valentine moved, standing up. He trifled through something and produced a gauzy bandage. "I forgot to give you this." He stood next to Eliza. Her breath caught as he leaned over her and carefully applied the bandage to her forehead, covering the gash.

He moved back to Jace, putting his hands on his shoulders. "It was all a terrible mistake, my son."

Jace looked at Eliza. "Why are you here? How did you get here?" He asked. There was nothing rude in his voice. It was thick with concern.

Valentine's dark eyes bored into her. "I didn't want you to be alone when you found out." Her tongue felt too big for her mouth.

Valentine chuckled, moving so both of them could see him. "You have such a caring sister, Jace. I hope she's been taking good care of you."

Confusion swept over his face. Sister? "What?"

"Eliza." Valentine said tightly.

Lies weaved in her mind, trying to find something plausible. Something he would believe. But there was Valentine, standing before them. Jace knew him as his father. "I'm sorry I had to lie to you." She said quietly. "I didn't want to overwhelm you with everything so quickly. But it's true." She took a deep breath. "It was safer to raise us separately. The Clave knew that he had two children, twin boy and girl. It was safer for me to be in one place and you to be in another. It was safer for me to be real and hidden, to be Eliza Morgenstern, and for you to Jace Wayland, son of Michael Wayland."

Jace's mouth worked in an awkward fashion, no words coming out. "I don't understand." He finally said.

Eliza stood up, not caring to finish her food. She had lost her appetite. She tucked her chair back under the table, staring at her father. "Tell him." She waved a hand. "Tell him who he is."

Who he thinks he is, anyways.

"My son." Valentine sighed. "Jonathan Christopher-." "Wayland." "Morgenstern."

The room went still. Jace was holding his breath. "Welcome to the family." Eliza said tersely. "Brother."

The color drained from Jace's face. "But…There's so much I don't understand."

Valentine nodded thoughtfully. "I am more than happy to make you understand, my son." He put his hands on the table, clasping them together. "Hodge used to be one of my great friends when we were younger. After the Uprising, I went to the house to collect you both. The manor was on fire. I only had time to get you both out before it exploded. I knew it wasn't safe to raise the two of you together. I left Eliza with Marisol Hardtower, a good friend of the family. I took Jace to Wayland Manor and we pretended to be the Waylands. No one had heard from Michael or his son since before the Uprising. Eight years later and things started to go wrong. I knew I had to fake my death again. I'm sorry, Jace, that I made you believe I had left you behind.

When I realized Hodge was after the Mortal Cup, I sent Eliza to procure it so she could put it in the hands of the Clave. Once Eliza found out where the Cup was, she realized Starkweather was on to her. So, she had that warlock Magnus Bane put a spell on her mind." Her stomach rolled at the way he said Magnus' name. Full of hatred and disgust. He wasn't even half the man Magnus was. "Once I found out that Starkweather had sent the Ravener demon after Jocelyn, I decided to come myself. To protect the both of you. I found Jocelyn and I brought her here to help her."

Eliza allowed herself to sneak a peek at Jace. His face was blank, but he had a look in his eyes. He was believing every word Valentine spoke. Eliza looked away, training her eyes on the floor.

Valentine had left them. There was a commotion outside. He left, telling them to gather their things so they could leave.

"You never mentioned it in your letter. The fact that I'm your brother." Jace said roughly.

He had moved to the window, pulling the curtain back. There were wolves outside, tearing Valentine's Forsaken apart.

Because you aren't him, Eliza thought.

"You weren't supposed to know." She told him. "He loved you. He loved you more than he had ever loved me. He wanted you in the dark and that, I was okay with that. I didn't want you living under what I had to."

Jace scoffed at her. "You made it pretty convincing, _Starkweather_." Her heart seized. "So, you made them up? Your parents, Oskar and Seraphina? Your Uncle Henry and your brother, Jon-."

She gave him an unusually crooked smile. She leaned against the wall beside him, her fingers fiddling with the curtain. "All hints to who I was. Oskar and Seraphina are my grandparents, our grandparents. Valentine's parents. Henry…It's a popular name. And my brother, good and kind Jonathan. You."

Jace sucked in a breath. "Our grandparents. Where are they?"

"Our mother's parents died in the fire of Fairchild Manor. Seraphina died when our father was a child, young and impressionable. And Oskar…he was killed by a werewolf before we were born. The sole reason Valentine hates Downworlders."

The door burst open. Eliza turned. "Jace! Eliza!"

Clary?

She was as dirty as they had been before. Her red hair wild. Jace turned, letting the curtain fall back over the window.

"Clary, how are you here?" Jace asked her.

The door slammed shut behind her. "I came with Luke."

The wolves. Luke. Lucian. "Can he call them off?" Jace asked.

Clary took a step back, taking them in. They were both cleaned and fed, bandages on their wounds. Eliza's pale hair had been washed and cleaned, Jace's golden locks falling softly atop his head.

"Well, Valentine is taking remarkably good care of you." Clary said darkly.

You would think, Eliza mused in her mind.

"My father is taking care of me." Jace told her.

Clary's brows knit in confusion. Everyone knew of Jace's father. He had been murdered in Wayland Manor when Jace was ten, Jace having witnessed the whole event. "Jace, your father's dead. He died when you were ten."

A much better fate, Eliza thought, than the one he has been saddled with now. Now he's a Morgenstern, doomed to a legacy of stain. Just like her.

"No. That was a mistake. I've seen him and talked to him. He's alive, Clary. My father is alive."

Clary's eyes narrowed. "So, you've seen him?" She asked Eliza. Eliza nodded yes. "So, Valentine is keeping the three of you hostage? You, your dad and Eliza?"

Jace laughed quietly, saying no. "It's not like that at all."

The door opened again. Valentine walked in. He had his long-sword sheathed at his waist. "Jace, Eliza, are your things together?" His eyes fell on Clary. Astonishment was evident on his face. He hadn't been expecting her. "Oh. Who is this?"

Clary suddenly had a dagger out. The dagger Jace had given her at Hotel Dumort. She had murder in her eyes. Eliza wondered if she could do it, make the blade stick. Kill her father. She was going to let her try but Jace held her back.

"Clary, stop. That's my father." Jace told her.

"One of you should really answer my question." His voice wavered on impatient.

"Clarissa Fray." Eliza answered him. "She's been staying at the Institute with us."

His eyes canvassed Clary, taking her all in. They landed on her dagger. "May I see that?" He asked pleasantly.

Jace took the dagger from Clary and handed it to Valentine. "Father." He said, placing the dagger in his hand.

Valentine examined the blade. "Jace, I gave this to you. It's a _kindjal_ , one of a matched pair. I'm quite surprised the Lightwoods never noticed the mark of the Morgensterns on this blade. But then again, they thought you were a Wayland." His tone was light with amusement.

Jace's mouth twitched. "As did I."

He should have been a Wayland. Having a dead father was better than her father. "Let us sit then." He sat down, Jace following his suit. Eliza sat down next. "Clary, take a sit if you want." Valentine offered. "There is room at the Morgenstern table for you."

Eliza swallowed. _Say she's your daughter. Say it._

Clary declined. "As you wish." Valentine said. "Clarissa, hmm? Not my taste in names. I prefer timeless names, traditional ones."

Eliza took a sip from her wine. He was indulging her. Only for Jace's sake. Jace had been blessed with a caring father. She had not been.

She had never been allowed to drink wine before.

"Well, I really don't care where my name falls in your taste." Clary said hotly. "You can stop pretending that you're Jace's father. Everyone knows that Jace is a Wayland." Valentine chuckled, leaning forward with interest. Clary looked to Eliza. "Tell him the truth. You're his daughter. Tell Jace that he isn't Valentine's son."

She felt her father's eyes on her. Another test of her loyalty. Another test of how smart she was. "Jace is my brother. My _twin_ brother." She told Clary quietly. "That is the truth and you should learn to accept it."

She knew how Clary felt. Clary felt the same way that she did. In love with Jace. The only difference was that Clary thought her feelings were unrequited. She didn't know the real truth. She thought Jace was her brother.

Eliza knew better. She knew the truth. Jace wasn't their brother. Eliza's feelings were perfectly requited. As long as she kept them to herself.

"Thank you, my darling Eliza." Valentine's tone was one she had never heard before. Appreciative. "Everyone was misinformed. It was unwittingly easy to take over the identity of Michael Wayland, especially when I had a son the same age as his own son. And it was a stroke of luck that Wayland's wife died during the Uprising, so of course he would be hiding away with his son in mourning. But soon, everyone will know the truth. Jace is my son, a Morgenstern."

Clary pointed at Jace's ring. "What about that?" She asked. "It's the Wayland family ring."

Eliza didn't like the amused look on her father's face. He was enjoying ruining Clary. Making her a fool, with an audience. "No one," Valentine sighed, "ever seems to recall how similar _M_ and _W_ are to each other." Jace's ring glittered in the lighting of the room. The heavy silver of the ring contrasted with the golden aura of Jace's physicality. "It's strange, isn't it? That the symbol of the Wayland family would be a falling star? But how strange could it be that it was the symbol of the Morgenstern family, instead?"

He was playing with her. He played with words the same way Jace did. The same way she played with knives.

Clary stared back at him blankly. "What does that even mean?"

Eliza's fingers tapped against her wineglass. Her nails made a quiet noise every time they clicked against the glass. "Lucifer is referred to as the Morning Star. Morgenstern is German for 'morning star.' A morning star refers to any sort of large power lost due to a refusal to serve."

Valentine _beamed_ at her. An uneasy feeling welled inside of her. The game he was playing, the act of doting father, it made her sick. She desperately wanted him to show his true colors, to prove her right. To stop leading Jace on.

"Wasn't the Uprising your fault?" Clary said haughtily.

Eliza fought back a smile. She wanted to see him lie out of that one. "Clary." Jace sighed heavily. "Hodge _lied_. Hear him out, please." Valentine was staring at Eliza, dark eyes cold. He was daring her to say something that contradicted the story he had made. "Hodge wanted the Cup for himself. He sent the Raveners after your mom. Valentine brought her here to help her."

Her entire life was full of lies. Did she even live with a truth anymore? What could she center her mind on to keep herself sane amidst the lies?

"He's lying to you, Jace." Clary told him. "Hodge was working for Valentine! Hodge traded him you and the Cup for the lifting of his curse!"

Jace shook his head in disagreement. Clary's face was red with hot anger. Eliza almost enjoyed watching them argue with each other. "No! Hodge wanted the Cup to lift his curse! He had to flee before my father told the Clave about what he was doing."

Clary turned to Eliza, her bright green eyes narrowed. "I was there. You know I was there." She said. "You were with us in the library. You saw everything I saw, heard everything I heard. Valentine lifted Hodge's curse because Hodge couldn't do it himself."

They were all looking at her. "I know what I saw, Clary." Eliza said calmly. "My father lifted Hodge's curse, it's true. And he told me why before you came. He was scared of what Hodge would do to Jace, to me, if he didn't. He is nothing if not a caring and loving father."

The whip scars on her back proved that much.

"He doesn't care about you." Clary seethed. "You know that."

Jace stood up, his hands slamming against the table. "Clary, that's enough! You aren't going to speak to my father that way."

"He's not your father, Jace! Get that through your head!"

Jace's face softened at her words. Eliza took another drink of her wine, glancing at her father. He gave her a subtle nod of approval. She was doing well. He was praising her. He had never praised her before.

"Why don't you believe us?" Jace whispered.

She saw Valentine shift from the corner of her eye. His hands were on the table. "She loves you, that's why." Eliza watched the color drain from Clary's face. Jace sat down slowly, his eyes on the floor. "Clarissa believes I'm taking advantage of you, Jonathan, and Eliza is aiding me."

"Jonathan?" Clary asked. "You said your name was Jace."

He finally looked at her, his eyes hard. He nodded. "It's a nickname. For my initials, J.C."

Clary looked as if she were going to be sick. Eliza stood up and picked up her wineglass. She handed it to Clary. "Drink." She thrusted the glass into Clary's hands. She watched Clary's mouth twist as she took in the wine and swallowed. She handed Eliza the glass back, her nose scrunched in distaste.

"J.C." Clary said slowly. "Jonathan Christopher."

Jace's tawny eyes widened. "How…How do you know that? I never told you that."

"Jace." Valentine's voice was everything it should have been in that moment. Comforting, assuring and kind. "The two of you were so young, I didn't want to break your hearts by telling you your mother had abandoned you. I thought it would be easier if you thought she was dead instead."

Jace looked at Eliza for assistance. She knew more than he did. She always had. "She's alive?" Jace whispered. "Our mother? Did you know?"

This time, she didn't lie to him. She couldn't tell another lie. "Yes." She admitted. "I found out in July. Magnus had a suspicion and I followed it. She knew where the Angel's Cup was, and she was going to tell me. But then Hodge started to suspect me, so I erased everything I knew about the Cup. I erased myself to keep you, Alec, Izzy and Clary safe."

Jace set his jaw. "Where is she?" He asked.

"Downstairs, asleep." Valentine told him. "Jace, Jocelyn is your mother."

Jace's head jerked. He looked at Clary and then Eliza, back to Valentine. "But…But that means that Clary-."

Eliza finished her wine. She set the glass down, her finger circling the rim. "Clary is our sister." She told him.

His hand twitched, knocking his wine glass over. "You're wrong. There's a mistake." He whispered. His face was pale.

"It's the truth, Jace." Eliza said sternly. "I went to Jocelyn's house in July. She knew who I was. As soon as she opened the door, she recognized me. Jocelyn is our mother and Clary is our sister."

Valentine leaned toward Jace. He put his hand on his shoulder. "Jonathan, I would have thought you would be pleased. You thought you were an orphan but now you have a family. A father, a mother and two sisters."

Jace looked nauseous, like he was going to be sick all over the table. "Jace…" Clary reached for him and he jerked away from her.

Eliza stole a look at her father. He had known the whole time. The gravity of dropping a bomb like that was the sort of power he wanted. The power he needed.

He was smart, the smartest person she knew. And he used it to his ultimate advantage. He was ruthless and cunning with his intelligence and it got him what he wanted every time.

If she was going to beat him, she was going to have to play the game the same way he played.

Clary turned to Valentine, a dark expression on her face. "You need to tell the whole truth. You give him lies with pieces of the truth put in. Stop it."

Valentine was keeping the amused expression off his face, instead replacing it with a look of tired consideration. "I'll give you the truth, Clarissa, if that's what you wish for." She said yes. "Michael Wayland was killed during the Uprising. He was never Jace's father. Becoming Michael Wayland was the easiest part of my fleeing. His only real friends in the Glass City were Maryse and Robert Lightwood and they were not allowed back. He had no family. For his part in the Uprising, Wayland would have been a disgrace. That was the life I led with my son. A disgraced life as Michael Wayland and his young son, Jace.

The only person who knew the truth was Marisol Hardtower. She had been one of my closest friends since childhood. I knew she would take excellent care of Eliza when I could not be there. Michael Wayland didn't have a daughter and if someone came to the house, I would not be able to explain her presence, so I left her in the care of Marisol. For ten years, things were peaceful. I traveled with Jace, I tried to split my time evenly between the two of them. Eliza knew where I was when I was gone, I trusted her with everything.

Ten years had gone by when someone wrote me a letter. They said that they knew I was really Valentine Morgenstern and I would need to take certain steps to keep my identity a secret. My life was compromised, along with the life of my children. I staged my death, with the help of Blackwell and Pangborn. I arranged for Jace to be sent to New York to be with the Lightwoods, as Robert was his godfather and Michael's _parabatai_. And I went back to Eliza." Clary said that he was sick, torturing Jace like that. Letting him think he was dead. "He had to believe that he was Michael's son. They would not have taken him any other way. They owed a debt to Michael Wayland and that was how they repaid it. That was how they loved Jonathan."

"They're his family. Not you." Clary told him. "They loved him for him, not because of who they thought he was."

Valentine shrugged. "They were his protection, not his family. He is a Morgenstern, not a Lightwood. I am his family. Eliza is his family."

Jace made a coughing noise deep in his throat. "And my mother? Our mother?"

Valentine gave him a sympathetic look. "She fled after the Uprising, as you know. Jocelyn couldn't bear to be associated with me or the Morgenstern name anymore. I was unaware of her early pregnancy at the time." He glanced at Clary. "How fate works, it is a mystery. But blood will also call to blood, my children. This is what I have wanted. My family, together and whole again. Your addition, Clary, is a surprise but a great one." He smiled, wide and terrifyingly brilliant. Eliza had never been more uncomfortable. "We can use the Portal to go back to Idris. To go home."

Idris, Eliza recalled. Beautiful beyond the description of words. The true home to all Shadowhunters. She looked to Jace. He was nodding along, agreeing to go back.

She couldn't leave him with Valentine. She wouldn't betray him like that. "Home sounds like a very lovely idea, Father." She sounded as sweet and compliant as she could.

Home, to her, did not sound lovely. Not his idea of home. The five of them together sounded preposterous. Jace, who's brain was rattled with revelation upon revelation; Clary, who quite possibly wanted to murder Valentine; Jocelyn, lying in a self-induced coma; and Eliza, only compliant because of Jace.

And Jonathan. The _real_ Jonathan. Where the hell was he?

"Me and my mom aren't going anywhere with you." Clary hissed.

Jace sighed, relaxing his shoulders. "Clary, it's the only place we can go."

Something on the floor below crashed, the noise deafening as thunder. Eliza's head whipped back towards the door.

"Father." Jace said softly. He stood, hand on his belt.

A soldier, Eliza thought wistfully, well-trained by the ultimate puppet master.

Valentine stood, massive over the three children. "They're close." He muttered.

Eliza stood up slowly as the door flung open. Luke Garroway- no, she reminded herself, Lucian Greymark- stood before them. His clothes were soaked with blood. Not just him. He was bloody. It was unclear if it was his own or the blood of someone else.

Clary darted across the room, clutching to him. Eliza felt her nose wrinkled in disgust. She'd just covered herself in blood. Luke hugged her back gently.

"Lucian, whose blood do you wear?" Valentine's voice rang out. Both Clary and Luke looked to him. Luke clutched Clary protectively. Jace stood behind Valentine, Eliza off to the side.

"Pangborn's." Luke said it simply.

Valentine frowned, eyes scanning over Luke. "And you ripped him apart with your teeth, I see."

Luke said no. He produced a dagger, holding it out for Valentine to see. A blue stone glittered on the hilt. "With this, actually. Do you remember it?" Eliza watched her father's expression change. Luke held a _kindjal_ , the match to the one Valentine had given Jace. "You should." Luke told him. "You put it in my hand seventeen years ago and told me to kill myself with it. And you almost had me, you almost convinced me to do it."

Her father's shoulders tightened. "I do not deny that." He spoke, voice tight with pain. She had never heard him sound pained before. She almost enjoyed it. "I was trying to save you, Lucian. I should have killed you myself. Then you would have died the man you used to be."

She sucked in a breath after his words. There was little remorse in his voice, filled with hatred. "A man such as yourself? A man who chains his comatose wife to a bed so that when she awakens, he can torture her for information?"

Valentine's hand twitched. "Jocelyn is chained for her protection, not her injury." He said smoothly. "I would never hurt her. I loved her. I still feel love for her."

Luke took a step closer. "What does she need protection from other than you? You have always been the threat to her. She ran away to protect herself from you." Luke's voice was seeping in years of anger and betrayal.

"You turned her against me!" Valentine shouted.

On instinct, Eliza flinched, shrinking back. She had once conditioned herself to not react when he raised his voice. But it had been months and everything she had trained in herself was gone.

Luke laughed at his old friend, his _parabatai_. "Jocelyn never needed me for that. She grew to hate you all on her own."

"Lies!" Valentine roared, his sword out. Eliza's heart hammered in her chest. Phaesphoros, Light-Bringer. The longsword to match her short-sword. The beauty of it still stunned her. The matte black of the sword, the silver stars falling down the blade. The tip of the blade pointed straight at Luke's heart.

"Father, wait." Jace pleaded.

"Silence, Jonathan!" He shouted at him, never turning his head.

Shock registered on Luke's face. He stared at Jace, his eyes moving to Eliza. "Jonathan and Eliza." He whispered. "The twins."

"Call me that again and I'll kill you myself." Jace told Luke. Eliza saw the fire in his golden eyes, the tightness of his mouth.

Luke's shoulders slumped. "Your mother would be proud of the both of you. She told me when you came to her, Eliza. She was…elated is an understatement. I hadn't seen her glow like that in years."

Jace was shaking. She saw the tremble over his body. "I have no mother." Jace's voice was as acidic as she'd ever heard it. "She abandoned me before I could even remember her, like I was nothing to her. So, she is nothing to me."

Luke turned his gaze back to Valentine. Astonishment and disgust were a mixture on his expression. "I used to think so highly of you, old friend. But now I realize that you were not above using your children as your pawns, as your bait."

The presence of her knives on her wrists made her alert as ever. No matter what Jace did, if Valentine moved to hurt anyone, she'd land a knife in him. And she wasn't above patricide.

"Let go of my daughter." Valentine told Luke. "Let her go, Lucian, or this blade will pierce your heart."

Luke pushed Clary away just as she said she was no daughter of Valentine. "Go, Clary. Go somewhere safe." Luke told her sternly. The way a father talked to a daughter. The way Valentine had never talked to Eliza. "Get out of here. Now."

Luke had his dagger pointed to Valentine. Clary stumbled towards the door. Jace moved quickly, blocking her exit. "You can't. The Forsaken will rip into you like dogs."

She shoved at him, but he didn't move.

Eliza moved out of the way just as her father struck at Luke. Her feet moved quickly, getting her across the room.

"Do something." Clary hissed. "I know you. I know you don't believe in any of this." She told her quietly.

Eliza stared in bewilderment. "I can do nothing." She told her. "This isn't my fight. Not yet."

Eosphoros seemed to burn on her back.

Luke hit her father in the shoulder. Blood stained Valentine's white shirt. "You turned her against me. You filled her with hatred when she was weak." Valentine seethed. "You made Jocelyn a fool!"

Eliza looked at Jace, gauging his reaction. "They're talking about your mother." Clary whispered.

"Mother?" Jace questioned the title. "She abandoned me."

Eliza turned on him. Her green eyes were dark. She was fed up with him. He believed everything. He was naïve, soft, just as he had been all those years ago. He was no Jonathan Morgenstern. Not by one million miles.

"You were dead to her." Eliza told Jace, her voice restrained. "She was sure that you were dead. That we were both dead. The day I went to her, she looked like she had seen a ghost when she looked at me. And when I told her you were alive, she nearly cried. There are mothers who abandon their children. She is not one of them."

Jace stared back at her, his eyes almost as dark as hers. "She could have been pretending." But she heard the doubt in his voice.

"She wasn't." Clary said softly. "She kept two small boxes hidden in her room. One with a J.C. and one with an E.S. Jace, she kept a lock of your baby hair in your box and a photograph. Eliza, yours had a photograph in it and a rattle. She'd take them out once a year, lock herself in her room and she would cry. The sounds she made…she was destroyed because she thought she had lost the two of you."

"Stop it." Jace said through gritted teeth. "Stop."

Clary glanced at Eliza and she nodded. Keep going, she said. He needed to hear it. "I'm telling you the truth. She would have never left if she thought you were alive. I swear. When she saw the house in flames, she saw the ruins. The bones of her parents. The bones of children. Two small children."

Both Jace and Eliza stared at her. Bones. Bones didn't argue. And there they stood, alive and well. Jace was not Jonathan, but Jonathan was alive. And so was Eliza.

"A glamour…" Jace whispered. "It had to be. We're standing right here. We're alive."

Clary raised her eyebrows. "Ask him if the bones of our mother's parents were a glamour as well. Is he hiding them somewhere, like he hid the two of you?"

"Clary, shut up!" Jace yelled at her. Eliza had never heard him shout like that, full of raw anger. His eyes were wide with it.

Clary stumbled backward and Eliza's hand reached out, steadying her, keeping her from falling. Out of the corner of her eye, Eliza saw Luke look over at them. Valentine thrusted forward, striking Luke in the chest with his sword.

Luke gasped. Eliza felt Clary go still in her grasp. Valentine struck him again, knocking the _kindjal_ from Luke's grip. He kicked it away as it hit the floor. Valentine's cold laugh echoed in the room.

Valentine raised his sword, ready to deliver a fatal blow.

Clary jerked out of her grasp and ran for Luke, diving on the ground next to him. Eliza slipped her knives from her wrists. The sword went down. Jace pushed her back, standing in front of her. Clary's hands went up to shield herself.

Eliza heard the loud _clang_ of the longsword clattering to the floor. Her father shouted in pain. His hand was bleeding. Jace's dagger was on the ground near the longsword.

Eliza looked at Jace. His arm was outstretched. He had landed the throw. Just as good as she would have.

His arm fell and his face lost color as he realized what he had done. As Valentine's eyes fell on them. He looked at Eliza, knives in her hands. And then he looked to Jace. "Father…" Jace murmured.

Eliza saw the flicker of rage on Valentine's face. She wondered if she had been the only one. "An excellent throw, son. Though I thought you sister had the affinity for throwing knives."

Of course. He had thought it was her. She was defiant enough. She had turned against him once. Why not another time?

Jace's mouth worked as he tried to form a response. "Your hand…" He said slowly.

Valentine plucked his sword from the floor. "You thought I aimed to hurt your sister. I would never have done that, Jonathan." He picked up the dagger, placing it in his belt. "I commend you for your concern over your younger sister."

Eliza turned her gaze to Luke. He looked like death had a hold on him and would not let go. He lay on his back, his eyes rolling. His own blood stained his shirt.

"I need a bandage. Something to stop the bleeding." Clary said.

Jace moved to get something in his pocket. "Jonathan." Valentine's voice was hard as steel. A no-room-for-argument voice. Valentine turned to Clary. "Clarissa, I understand that you were not raised as a Shadowhunter, so this must be confusing for you. But Lucian is an enemy of our family and an enemy of the Clave. As Shadowhunters, we must also be killers at some points in time. Do you understand?"

Clary's eyes flashed at him with anger. Eliza liked her more and more as time passed. They had the same fire in them. "We hunt and we kill demons. We aren't murderers." Clary told him. "If you can't see the difference, something is wrong with you."

"My dear Clarissa," Valentine's voice was unnervingly soft, "Lucian is a demon. A monster with the face of a man I once knew and loved. Monsters are deceptive. It's their nature."

Oh, he's done it now, Eliza thought. Rage passed on Clary's face. "He isn't a monster. You're the monster." Clary seethed at him.

Eliza refrained from smiling. She really liked Clary. A spitfire of a girl. Jace shouted at her.

"You're a murderer." Clary went on. "You murdered my grandparents in cold blood. And I would bet my life that you killed Michael Wayland and his son to stage yours' and Jace's deaths in the fire. I bet you put your necklace around Michael's neck so my mom would think that he was you. You killed innocent people. You're a monster."

Eliza whistled lowly. Her father's face was pinched in anger. "Enough, Clarissa." She recognized the quiet rage in his voice. He raised his sword. "One of you remove your sister from the situation or I will knock her out of my way to kill the monster behind her."

She secured her knives in the braces on her wrist. Eliza said nothing as she crossed the room. "Get up." She told Clary. Her sister stared up at her, green eyes wide. "Clary, do as I tell you. Get. Up." Clary didn't move, face hard with defiance. Eliza rolled her eyes. She grabbed Clary by the arms and yanked her to her feet.

And then she shoved Clary out of the way. In a flash, Clary was near Jace and Eliza had her short-sword out.

She was tall, only a few inches shorter than her father. She had always felt small compared to him. She realized then it was because he made her feel that way, not with his stature, but with how he acted towards her. His dominance over her entire life.

"Liz. Stop." Jace begged.

Valentine, not very shocked, raised his eyebrows inquisitively. "Eliza, what are you doing?"

She stared back at him, her gaze hard. She swallowed. "What I should have done a long time ago. I let you dictate my entire life. I listened to you for years, I looked at you with false adoration and you had no idea. You ruined me. But then you sent me here. You let me go. That was your mistake. You-."

"I was testing you. I didn't trust you."

She laughed, all smiles and bright eyes. "You think I didn't know that? You think that I didn't realize what I was to you? I was never your daughter. I was your insurance. You can play family with Jace all you want." She didn't look at him. She didn't dare cast her glance away from her father. "Jace, he spoiled you. He indulged you and he gave you the world. He let you see the world. Do you know what I saw? The Glass City from the windows of a cottage. Do you know what I got? Lashes whenever my behavior wasn't satisfactory. I've got the scars to prove it."

Eosphoros was balanced. Made perfectly for her. The blood of Lucifer infused in the blade. A strong sword, made stronger with the blood of a Prince of Hell.

"I will no longer let you ruin me, Father. For too long have you been at your own." Her grip tightened on the hilt, the rubies cutting into her palm. "If you want to kill Luke, you'll fight me for him. If you win, his life is yours to take. And if I win, his life is spared. And if you don't want to fight me, you can kill me before you kill him. Those are the only ways you can have his life."

Her father smiled down at her. It wasn't a cold smile. It was fond. "You are full of fire, my daughter. Just like your mother. You are brave, but your bravery is of the stupid kind. You would give your life for a beast? For a beast like the one that killed your grandfather? I raised you better. I raised you to be smarter."

She lowered her sword, but didn't sheath it. "Don't lie, Father. You raised me to be a weapon of your bidding."

Valentine eyed his sword and then looked back at her. "Eliza Seraphine, I named you after my mother. I adored her, just the way I hoped you would adore me. I see I have failed you in being a father. A hatred burns inside you and for that, I am sorry." Sorry? He wasn't sorry. He was never sorry. "I will not fight you, Eliza. I will not fight you and I will not kill you. But I will have Lucian's life."

He thrusted his arm out, knocking her out of his way. She fell to the floor, her head smacking against the concrete floor. Her short-sword fell beside her, clattering as the metal hit the hard concrete.

Valentine stood over Luke, sword pointed down. "I wish I had real silver. The right way to kill a beast like yourself."

Jace held Clary back, and though Clary's struggle was evident, Jace was too strong. Luke struggled to stand.

"Well, Valentine, if you're going to insist on my death. Let me die on my feet."

Valentine was silent for a moment, as if he were truly considering that an option. And then he shrugged mercilessly. "No. Only men die on their feet. You'll die on your knees or your back. I'll let you decide."

Clary and Jace were arguing in hushed voices, she couldn't hear them. Luke got to his knees. His lips murmured, voice too quiet for her to hear.

She saw Jace push Clary down on the floor. His gaze caught hers. There was a different look in his eyes. One she didn't quite recognize. He gave her a single nod.

A nod that meant everything.

Eliza slipped a knife from her brace and launched it. It landed in Valentine's forearm. He howled out in pain, dropping the longsword. Jace ran and jumped in front of Luke. He pushed him out of the way, standing in front of Valentine's sword.

"ELIZA!" Valentine roared. He yanked the knife from his arm and let it fall to the floor. And then he saw Jace, standing in front of him. Standing in the place of Luke.

Eliza got to her feet. Jace wasn't looking at her. His gaze was on Valentine. "You need to leave." Jace told him.

"Excuse me?" Valentine breathed. "What did you say to me?"

Luke was sitting up. "You heard me, Father. You need to leave."

Valentine's face was red with rage. "Jonathan Morgenstern, how d-."

Jace picked the sword up from the floor and pointed it at Valentine. He glanced at Eliza, look pleading. She picked up her short-sword and joined Jace at his side. Valentine stared back at them.

"My name," Jace said calmly, slowly, "is Jace Wayland. Not Jonathan Morgenstern."

Eliza wanted to look at him so badly, to see his face. But she didn't dare move her gaze from her father.

Valentine's eye twitched. "You are not a Wayland. There is none of that blood in you. Michael Wayland is no one but a stranger to you."

She heard Jace swallowed thickly. "As are you. Now leave." He jerked the sword to the left, towards the door.

"You expect me to take my orders from a child?" Valentine laughed. The tip of Phaesphoros touched Valentine's neck.

Eliza said no. "You'll take your orders from two children. Children you extensively trained to kill. The way Jace is holding that sword against your throat, if he moves, just barely moves two of his fingers, you're dead. And I…Well, you know what I'm capable of."

Valentine barely breathed. He was still, unmoving. "Yes, the two of you are great warriors. But you're flawed. The both of you are weak, softhearted. You wouldn't kill me. You _can't_."

Eliza cocked her head to the side. Luke spoke before she could. "They may not have the hearts to kill you, Valentine. But I know I do." He was on his feet. "And I know that neither of them could stop me. Though, from the look on her face, I'm not sure Eliza would bother trying."

She let herself crack a smile. Valentine looked from the two of them to Luke and then back. "Jonathan, the wolf is threatening my life. You're going to side with it?"

She knew, she knew without look, Jace had that pleasantly amused expression on his face. "Werewolves are very fast. I doubt I could stop him if I wanted to."

Valentine turned to Eliza, black eyes flared with fury. She didn't falter under his gaze as she once had. "You." He spat. "You turned him against me. You turned my son against me."

She shrugged at him. "No. I think you did that on your own."

The only thing holding him back was the sword at his throat. "Look at the two of you. A pair. Just like your mother. Betraying me for the beast."

Eliza produced a full-fledged smile. "Well, you did tell me that I reminded you of her. Don't act so shocked."

Jace's hand trembled, the sword shaking slightly. She knew if he faltered, she could not. She'd have to drive her sword home, straight through her father.

If she did, she'd tell Jace the truth. All of it as she knew it. They weren't brother and sister. They weren't even related.

"Yes." Jace said evenly. "You left me. You let me think you were dead. You lied. You told me my mother was dead. You never told me that I had a mother or sisters. And when you left me, I was alone."

"To protect you!" Valentine shouted. "I did all of that to protect you!"

Protection. What did he know of protection?

"You say you care," Clary started, "but if you cared about either of them, you wouldn't have spilled innocent blood. You killed their grandparents. You can't blame them for being a little upset."

Eliza gave an agreeing noise.

"No one is innocent, Clarissa. They all sided with Jocelyn. And if she would have had her way, she would have taken my children away from me!"

Ah, Eliza thought, he's done it now. There was no control to him. All of him was pure rage, hot and fatal.

The tendons in Valentine's arms were stretched and tight, the ones in his neck sticking out. "Are you saying you knew Jocelyn was going to run?" Luke asked quietly.

"Only a fool would have thought otherwise." He hissed in reply. "I gave Adele and Granville something they could have only dreamed of. I gave them a funeral pyre reserved for only the best of Shadowhunters."

Admittance. He'd really screwed himself over in Jace's eyes then. Admitting he set the manor on fire. Admitting he murdered Jocelyn's parents.

"You set the fire." Clary's voice was plain.

"Oh, yes." Valentine's voice was thick with fire. "I burned them."

Jace made a noise in his throat. He was shaking, the sword uneven.

"Congratulations, Father. You've lost your son." Eliza's voice was unwaveringly warm. "Now, tell us where the Mortal Cup is. Hand it over and you get to live."

"I can't do that." He said evenly. "The Cup is in Idris. Somewhere you'll never find it." Eliza said she would. He chuckled. "You think you know all my secrets, Eliza, but you're wrong. You know nothing."

"Jonathan, give me the sword. Please."

From the corner of her eye, she could see that Luke was standing behind Jace, his hand on his shoulder. Jace, sounding far away, said he couldn't.

"Yes, you can." Clary told him.

There was a long moment where Eliza was sure Jace was going to shove the sword into Valentine. And then Luke's hand was over Jace's on the hilt of Phaesphoros. "Jace, let go." Luke's voice was assuring and soft.

She saw Jace move backward, letting Luke have the sword. Now, Luke stood in his place, beside her. Sword at Valentine's throat.

"Eliza, you can go. Join your brother and sister." Luke told her.

A hollow laugh escaped from her. "No chance in hell, Greymark." She told him. "If anyone gets to draw his blood, I want it to be me."

She heard him draw in a breath of surprise. He hadn't expected her to be so resilient, to be stubborn. For who could be stubborn under the hand of Valentine?

"I do have a suggestion." Valentine announced.

Luke smiled thinly. "If it's asking for your life to be spared, keep your mouth shut. I'm not going to kill you unless I have to. All I want is the Cup. Though Eliza…"

"I won't kill you." Eliza told her father. "I want to, but I won't unless you make a move to hurt someone. I won't be a careless murderer like you."

A roaring noise came from downstairs. The Forsaken. Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat.

"The Angel's Cup in in Idris, as I told you before." Valentine sighed. His gaze shifted to the door.

Luke nodded. "You have a Portal here. You and I will go through the Portal to Idris to get the Cup." There was a pause as he took a breath. "Eliza, once we've gone through the Portal, take your brother and sister and go somewhere safe through the Portal. Anywhere you can think of."

Magnus, she thought. Magnus was safe.

 _My, little dove. I was wondering when I'd hear from you._

His voice was a beacon of hope in her mind. She had forgotten about him, about the link.

 _I can tell my spell on your mind has shattered. How do you feel?_

She chuckled lowly. _I feel like committing a bit of patricide today._

"Eliza." Luke called out.

She nodded once. "I've got a place in mind already."

A clear look of disgust passed over her father's face. It burned him from the inside out that she had Magnus. "Your friendship with the warlock is nauseating, Eliza. I expected better from you."

She said that no, he hadn't expected better from her.

"The Portal, Valentine." Luke reminded him.

He held up his hands and took a step back. The door exploded inward. Luke ducked, Eliza whirled around, sword pointed towards the potential threat.

It was a wolf. She lowered her sword. It was one of Luke's wolves. Luke was shouting at the wolf.

Eliza turned just in time to see the dagger in her father's hand. It left his hand, slicing through the air right towards Luke. She saw the wolf jump in front of Luke and the blade striking home, landing in a mass of fur.

"Your wolves die for you and you let them. Pathetic." Valentine spat.

Luke dropped to his knees at the side of the wolf. Valentine turned and started towards the windows and the mirror. She darted towards him, standing in his way.

"Father. I will not let you go."

And then Jace was beside her. His hand close to hers. Her fingers itched, but she restrained herself. "Liz, it's fine." He told her. "I'll go with him to Idris and get the Cup. I'll bring it back. You hold down the fort."

"Let me go." She told him. He stared questioningly. "I know him better, Jace. I'm better prepared."

Valentine chuckled. "The Cup is not far. Idris is only through a looking glass."

She glanced back at the mirror. The Portal. Jace hadn't known, he'd been asleep when they came through.

Valentine ran his hand along the edge of the mirror. The image on the glass stirred and changed into something new. The fields of Idris were green with life, the trees tall and lively. Her body ached to be back in Idris.

But that was not her home. Home was at the Institute. With Alec and Izzy and Jace. And now, Clary.

"I see the desire in your eyes, Eliza. You long to be back. And you, Jonathan, doesn't it all look the same as it did?"

So that was Wayland Manor, Eliza thought. Much nicer than the small cottage she was raised in.

"Which of you will come?" Valentine asked. "It doesn't have to be only one. Both can come home."

Eliza said no. "Home is the Institute. For both of us." Jace agreed quietly.

Valentine's features twisted. Eliza had seen the look so many times. Disappointment wrapped thickly in anger. She saw Clary flinch at the expression. Valentine put one leg through the Portal and stepped through into Idris. Jace moved closer to the Portal.

"Don't go." Clary called to him.

Eliza put her hand on his wrist. He looked back at her. "We stay." She whispered. "The Clave can retrieve the Cup."

Valentine was so close, but so far. Only inches away, but also miles away. "You'll have to kill me before I give you the Cup." Valentine said. "And you don't have it in you, Jonathan. And though I know your sister does, she is no match for me. I'll kill her before she can touch me."

Jace's hands shook.

Valentine's fist flew. Eliza jerked Jace back for a blow that never arrived. Valentine's fist connected with the glass of the mirror Portal. The glass shattered at their feet. She could still hear Valentine's laughter even after the image of him was gone.

Jace looked at Eliza. "I could have killed him." He said. "I could have."

She gave him a soft look, shaking her head. "I don't know, Jace. I really don't." She looked back at Luke. He had covered the wolf in Valentine's coat. "Is your friend…Is he...?"

Luke nodded, standing up. "Alaric is dead."

Guilt surged in her. "I saw the knife. I should have acted quicker. If I had, your friend might still be alive."

Luke looked at her sympathetically. "Maybe so. But you can't blame yourself, Eliza. You were faced by your father and though you try and deny it and push it away, I know that you fear him. You can train yourself to not shake or not flinch, but the look of fear in your eyes does not go away with training."

She turned away. Her eyes fell on the shattered Portal.

"He got away. He has the Cup." Jace mumbled. "We put it in his hands."

Eliza dropped her sword to the ground. She rubbed her face with her hands. "I asked Magnus for the block. I asked him to take away everything I knew because I thought I was protecting you." She said quietly. "I thought if Valentine saw that I didn't know anything, he'd have no reason to hurt any of you. But because of that, I was blind, and I didn't know anything. I gave Hodge the Cup. I let him summon Valentine to the Institute. I tried to protect you, but I failed you instead."

"You didn't fail, Liz." Jace told her. "You did what you thought was right."

She looked at him. Her _brother_. Valentine was gone, far away in Idris. She could tell Jace, tell him the truth. But fear ate away at her. Who knew if he was still watching? She had to be careful, play it safe.

Jace had to believe he was her brother. No matter how much it broke her heart.


	12. Chapter 12

The hospital room was empty, save for Luke. But he blended like a shadow. She had waited for Clary to leave, to return to the Institute.

Her mother was on the bed, unconscious.

Eliza held a box in her hands, two letters delicately inscribed on top of the box. She ran her fingers over it as she neared Jocelyn's bedside.

"I'll give you a minute alone with her." Luke stood up from his chair. She murmured a quiet thank you and remained silent until he left the room.

Eliza sat on the edge of the bed, facing her mother. She carefully opened the box. "Clary told me that you had this. A box for me and one for Jonathan. I went back to your home and I got it. I wanted to see what you had to remember me by."

Her fingers grazed over a photograph and she pulled it out. It was Jocelyn, though years younger. Her flame red hair fell down her shoulders in wild curls. She held a baby on her lap. Eliza recognized herself. She smiled at the photo. "I wondered about you for years. I could remember flashes of you. Red hair, green eyes. But sometimes, I thought I was just imagining you, making you up. But here you are, in front of me."

She smiled, putting the photo back in the box. Her fingers closed around the silver rattle and she pulled it out. There was a soft _S_ etched onto the rattle. "I think I remember this. The _S_ stands for Seraphina, doesn't it? His mother." She shook it gently and then put it back in the box. She closed it tightly.

"He said that I reminded him of you. I remember you told me that you used to wear your hair in braids the way I do. He told me that I looked like you when I did. He said he liked it. So…I cut my hair off. I felt sick when he said it."

Her fingers deftly touched at her hair. It had once gone past her shoulders, but it now stopped bluntly at her chin. "I'll be here when you wake up. And if I'm not, I'll get here as soon as I can. Like you said, there's so much we have to catch up on, Mama."

Her fingers gently moved to arranged Jocelyn's hair. She stood up. "Wake up soon, Mama. Things are going to get ugly very soon."

* * *

Magnus had come for Alec, after all. He had healed him when the Silent Brothers had failed to make an appearance. And after that, he had stayed at the Institute, phone buzzing all night.

The entire Downworld was buzzing with the sure return of Valentine and the fact that he had three children. And one of them was under the clear protection of Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn.

Izzy had bugged Eliza about it, wondering how Magnus knew to come to Alec's aid. She pestered for about twenty minutes before Eliza cracked and admitted that she had begged Magnus to come and do anything he could to save Alec's life.

And then Izzy had enveloped her in the most bone-crushing hug. Crying and thanking her for saving Alec's life.

"The universe is really cruel, huh?" Alec poked her with his crutch.

He was standing with her in the kitchen as she made a sandwich, occasionally dropping pieces down to Church.

"What do you mean?" She asked, slicing the sandwich in two.

She saw him shrug. "You. Lying to all of us and then going to the extreme to protect us and then…all of that happening."

She shrugged in return, putting her sandwich on a plate. "To be honest, I felt the same at first. But then I realized the universe wasn't being cruel. It was being kind. Showing me who my real family was. Giving me a home I finally felt safe in."

Alec smiled widely at her. He snatched half her sandwich and took a bite. "You make a good sandwich, Morgenstern." He said while chewing.

She laughed, snatching the remaining sandwich half back. "Watch yourself, Lightwood."

"It's weird. You all are siblings, but you're all so different." Alec noted. "I mean, you and Clary share the eyes…"

She took a quiet bite of her sandwich and chewed. She swallowed and then looked at him, an uneasy smile on her face. "Well, you know how iffy genetics can be. But Jace looks exactly like our grandfather, Oskar. I saw a photo of him once. It's kind of weird."

And just like that, another lie to protect a different lie.

* * *

 **September**

The door to her room slammed shut behind him. She looked back, her green eyes narrowed. "I said don't follow me. Are you deaf or just stupid?" She asked him.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I must be stupid. But you're going to tell me everything. Why you lied, why you've done everything that you have."

Her shoulders slumped. So, the lies continued. They had to. She feared that he was watching her every move. She couldn't afford to make any mistakes. Not when the lives of the people she loved most were on the line. She couldn't be careless like she had been before.

"You're going to need to be more specific, Jonathan. I've done quite a few things."

He flinched at his name. A name that was his, but it wasn't his at the same time. "Everything you did for him. For our father. Why?"

Our father. Their father. The lie made her mouth chalky. She so desperately wanted to tell him that Valentine had lied, again. That he wasn't truly Jace's father. That the real Jonathan was alive, somewhere, with his cruel black eyes and that hollow, void laugh that chilled her spine.

"I value my life. I may have a terrible one, but I enjoy it sometimes." Jace's face pinched. He said that Valentine would have never killed her. She was his daughter. She laughed darkly. "Do you think that mattered to him? He killed our grandparents. He killed Michael Wayland and his infant son. In cold blood, he admitted that. You heard him say those things. He kept me because he needed me to do what he couldn't. I was an insurance policy, not a daughter."

Jace shook his head. "That's not true, Eliza. The way he talks to you, the way he looks at you, he loves you."

She swallowed. He wouldn't believe her without proof. She took off her shirt and turned, showing him her back. The cool air hit the jagged scars, raising goosebumps on her back. Jace's fingers were hot on her back, gently running over the thick scars. His breath was warm on the back of her neck. "They're from a whip, the tips edged with a demon metal, in case you were wondering." She murmured. "He called it the perils of obedience. Every time I didn't do something to his liking or to his standard, I was punished. You say he beat you, but he tortured me." She stepped away from him, putting on her shirt and turning back to face him. "You don't hurt the people you love, not intentionally, not like this. You don't torture them."

"You lied for him. You lied for him, even after this? After he did this to you?"

She nodded feebly. He would never understand. He had gotten a different Valentine, a different father. "I _had_ to. You don't understand. If he tells you to do something, you do it. And it isn't like I did what he wanted me to do anyways. I never intended for him to have the Mortal Cup. I wanted to stop him." She laughed quietly. "Look how well that turned out. He's out there somewhere with the Cup and the Clave hasn't found him yet. You know they won't find him."

Jace sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. "You didn't have to lie to us. To me. We would have helped you, Lizzie." He said softly. So naïve, she thought. He wanted her to be good. To have a better reason for doing terrible things. Apparently, saving her own neck wasn't enough.

"You're acting as if you would have helped, but I know you. I know how you build walls around yourself and you don't let people in. I know exactly how you work, Jace Wayland." Her voice was as cold as her heart felt. Wayland, Wayland, Wayland. No, he was a Morgenstern now. He believed he was and he had to. But he insisted on Wayland. He thought Valentine was his father, but he did not want the last name. She didn't want it either.

Things had been easier when she was a Starkweather.

He said no quickly. "You can't. How could you?" He asked her quietly. "I only ever told you certain things. You don't know everything. You can't know everything."

"We were made for the same task. Why do you think he kept us around, but raised us separately? One of us was bound to fail and he knew that." Valentine had never thought of both of them failing him. One he deemed too soft for the task and the other too defiant to commit his evil. Good thing, she thought, he still had the real Jonathan behind him. "I knew everything about you. I knew where he kept you, I knew what he was teaching you. You were his great failure, Jace. You were too soft, too weak for him. So, he died again and had you sent here. Under the watchful eye of Hodge, who could still send him reports of you. And he told me everything. The falcon that you tamed, I knew of it long before you told me all those weeks ago. I knew you so much longer before you knew me." Her words came out smoothly.

She wanted to hurt him. She wanted him to feel what she felt. She couldn't stop herself. "How do you think I knew what buttons to press with you? Did you really think I was as kind and wonderful as I let you think I was? He told me everything about you."

How could she be kind, how could she be soft when she had the father that she did?

His face was pale, his mouth twitching. She knew he had never heard her talk so cruelly, be so cool and so biting at the same time. Not with him. Never with him. Her words were mirthless, she'd put all her effort into being unkind.

"Elaborate. Tell me everything." He demanded. "I need to know why."

He wouldn't quit. She felt like her heart was shattering after every word. She swallowed again, nodding.

"You were on my ass. You didn't trust me, and you didn't want to. I was new and I was a threat in your eyes. I knew about you, but not what I needed. Hodge told me exactly how to win you and that was what I did. I made you trust me." He said that she went a little too far on that one. She smiled sickly at him. "I had to make it believable." She lied.

She pitied him, how easy it was for him to believe Valentine's lie. How truly ignorant Jace really was. Because he did not fit into their family. Clary had Jocelyn's curly red hair and bright green eyes. Eliza had Valentine's platinum hair and Jocelyn's eyes. Jace had…he had the looks of an angel. But Valentine had raised him, so he was his father. But not biologically, not the way Jace thought he was.

"I gave you everything I had, Eliza." His voice was like a child's. He sounded small and defeated. Exactly how she had wanted him to feel. But she hadn't imagined she would feel so awful about it. "I trusted you."

Her eyes narrowed. "A stupid mistake on your part." She told him. He said nothing as he left her room, slamming the door shut.

* * *

Magnus had sent her to Taki's to pick up dinner. He had an 'unquenchable' craving for seabass and needed it immediately, he didn't want to wait for her to go down to the fish market, come back to the apartment and then cook it. He'd stuffed a fifty-dollar bill in her hand and sent her on her way, telling her to come back with no less than two pieces of grilled seabass.

"Well, look who it is." Kaelie grinned as she walked in the door. "We don't serve Morgensterns here."

Her name stifled the conversation in the diner. The constant Downworlder population in Taki's was overwhelming and a little dangerous to her. They all hated her father, so by extension, they hated her.

"So, does that mean you aren't serving Jace anymore either?" Eliza replied smoothly. "He'll be so disappointed."

Kaelie's blue eyes narrowed. She hadn't thought about Jace, then. But it wasn't about the Morgenstern name. Kaelie just didn't like Eliza.

The feeling was more than mutual. "I'm here for Magnus, anyways." The fey girl's shoulders tensed. Eliza liked having Magnus' name to use. No one wanted to piss him off. "He wants seabass, a lot of it. Grilled to perfection. I guess side that order with a salad and top that with those faerie plums he likes so well." Kaelie was scribbling it all down, not looking up from her notepad. "And I'll just have two pieces of the grilled salmon, no side."

Kaelie looked up at her and repeated the order. Eliza nodded and Kaelie disappeared into the kitchen to hand the order over.

"That's quite a bit of fish. Though I suppose the Nephilim need their strength." The voice was British and male. She turned her head to the side, taking in her new conversation partner.

The pale color of his skin jumped out at her. _Vampire_. She let herself take in the rest of his features. A beautiful aquiline nose, strong jawline. Eyes the color of warm caramel. Curly brown hair that fell over his ears.

"It's not all for me." She told him. "Most of it is for my friend-."

"Magnus Bane, yes, I heard." He smiled, his teeth a blinding white. His incisors were longer than the usual incisors, sharpened to a deadly point. "A Nephilim child friends with the High Warlock of Brooklyn. That must make you Eliza Morgenstern."

She raised an eyebrow. She turned her whole body towards him. "You've heard of me."

He nodded once, his curls bouncing softly. "I believe everyone in our world has. The defiant princess of the Morgenstern family. Beautiful as she is deadly."

"I'm blushing." Her voice was flat. She would have blushed, had the circumstance been different. Had he not been a vampire. One who possibly wanted to exact revenge on her father by killing her.

"I've heard many things about you. All impressive." That caught her attention. "You stabbed Santiago, I hear."

She knew he meant Raphael. She turned to show him the dark red scar on her neck. "He bit me." She said simply. "I'd say the bastard got less than he deserved."

The vampire boy chuckled, his laugh light and jovial. "I would agree, but Raphael is a potential ally to the London clan. I cannot speak out against him. Not publicly, anyways."

"I have to ask what a London vampire is doing in New York."

Kaelie called her name. Eliza fished the money from her pocket. "I'll pay for the young lady, Kaelie." The vampire handed Kaelie two twenties. "I'd also like some blood. Whatever you have on tap, please." Kaelie placed the bag in front of Eliza and took the money from the vampire, heading to the register.

"Thank you." Eliza said quietly.

It was odd, seeing a vampire smile benevolently. She wondered how old he really was. "You'd best get home to Mr. Bane, before your dinner gets cold."

She stood up, grabbing her food bag from the counter. "Your name, so I can send you a handwritten thank you note."

The vampire stood. He swiped his curls behind his ears and adjusted his dark grey suit jacket. She realized he was dressed unusually well for a young vampire. A suit jacket, fine black slacks and beautifully polished black shoes. "Declan Kensley. Though, I'd prefer a nice walk through the park instead of a note. Possibly a dinner?"

Was he asking her on a _date_?

"Until next time, Ms. Morgenstern. Enjoy your dinner." His cold hands took her own, pressing cold lips against her knuckles.

* * *

She slammed the door shut to Magnus' apartment. "Dinner!" She shouted, rushing to the table.

Magnus appeared in the room, wearing a silky purple robe with glittering stars embroidered on it. He had on his fuzzy black slippers and his nails were painted a dark blue.

"You look flustered. What's got your gear in a twist?" He chuckled, walking over to the cabinet. He took out two glasses and filled them with wine.

She took the food out of the bag and got two plates to put it on. "I ran into a vampire at the diner." She told him. "He goes by Declan Kensley."

She saw Magnus raise his eyebrows. "Kensley's in town? What did he say to you?"

She shrugged, sitting down. She began cutting her salmon. "He said something about allying with Raphael's clan. You know, before he asked me on a date or whatever."

Magnus choked on his wine. He put his wine glass down. "Declan Kensley asked you on a date? I'll need more details, little dove." She told him that he paid for their meal and then asked her for a walk in the park or dinner. "Well, little dove, I'm impressed. I've known Kensley for centuries. He's the head of the London clan and has been for a very long time. He's one of the more respectable vampires, but there's a reason no one has challenged him before."

She took a bite of her salmon and chewed slowly.

"I recommend saying yes. Declan is honorable and good. And he's an excellent courter. He once courted a Spanish princess before she was married off to someone of higher status."

How old was he, Eliza wondered. Courting? A Spanish princess?

"Magnus, he's a vampire. I barely know him. Besides, don't you think it's a little odd that a Downworlder would want to take me on a walk through the park? They don't exactly like me." She took a drink of her wine.

Magnus' cat eyes gleamed in the low lighting of the kitchen. She really hated that look, the I-know-so-much-more-than-you look. "Kensley is a gentleman first and a vampire second. I think you'd like him." He stood up and grabbed his notepad from the counter. "I'll send him a note right this moment and tell him that you'd love to go on a walk with him tomorrow evening. I can chaperone if you'd like."

She rolled her eyes, once again cutting into her salmon. Magnus was relentless. She knew he wanted her to be happy. Her happiness was always his concern. And if he approved of Kensley, who was she to spurn that? She sighed and then smiled over at him. "I'm a Shadowhunter, Magnus, I don't think I'll need a chaperone. If he gets too much, I'll just stake him."

Magnus continued writing on his notepad. He tore out the paper and crumpled it up. It burst into flames, disappearing in his hand. "That's my girl."

* * *

He had said six and he was just as punctual as Magnus had said he was. He arrived at five forty-five, just in time for tea, Magnus said. Magnus ushered Declan inside and put the tea on.

Chairman Meow pawed at Eliza's covered ankles. "What a cute cat." Declan mused.

"He's clingy." Eliza told him. Magnus muttered that it was only because Eliza spoiled him. "I just give him the attention that you don't. And," she said before he could put in a word, "throwing those parties in his name does not count."

Magnus frowned. "Declan, would you care for some tea? I know how much you used to enjoy it when you lived."

Declan nodded. "It's one of the few human pleasures I allow myself. You remember how I take it?"

Magnus _gleamed_ in response and disappeared to the kitchen. "Hands to yourself, Kensley! She may cut them off!" He called from afar.

Declan looked at her, an amused expression on his face. "Do you wear gear on all of your dates, Miss Morgenstern? Or do you just not trust me to be a gentleman?" There was a glint of a smile on his lips.

He looked handsome. Almost…human. If he didn't have the unnaturally pale skin or the elongated incisors, he could have passed.

Magnus returned with Declan's cup of tea. He handed him the cup and Declan sniffed it. "I didn't realize you kept AB negative on tap, Magnus. Do you treat all of your Night guests this kindly?"

"No, unfortunately for them. But I remember what you like and I'm buttering you up because Declan Kensley, I will ruin your eternal life if you do wrong by my dove." Magnus' smile was bright and just the right amount of terrifying.

Declan looked at her and she shrugged in response. "He's protective, you learn to deal with it." She explained. "And yes, I always wear gear. You never know when a big scary monster might attack, and I'll have to protect you." She smiled at him.

* * *

"So, Miss Morgenstern, what do you like best about being a child of the Angel?"

The moon hung over the river, the stars dotting the dark sky. The moon over the park, the cool breeze of the wind, the family of ducks waddling near the pond, it was serene. She didn't remember the last time she had felt so relaxed and she wasn't sure if she ever had.

"Killing things." Her answer was anything but dishonest. She hadn't even had to think about it. The words just slipped.

Declan's eyebrows quirked, his mouth curving into an amused line. "Is that so?" He asked. She said yes evenly. "There is a certain…darkness to you. I can smell it on you."

She let out a laugh. "That isn't creepy at all." She told him. "And it's Eliza. You can call me Eliza, especially since you're trying to court me." She hid her smirk from him, turning to look at the pond.

"Well, Eliza, I sincerely apologize for my 'creepy' behavior and I hope I haven't scared you off." He stopped walking, grabbing a hold of her wrist. He was careful to avoid the knife. "I would like very much to keep seeing you, Miss Morgenstern. I find you very interesting and you are quite intricate and puzzling and for a Shadowhunter, you are unbelievable."

He made everything sound like poetry. Maybe it was just his accent. He reached over to push a piece of hair behind her ear.

"You can." She said quietly. "Keep seeing me, I mean. We do have conflicting schedules, though. Considering you're only out at night and I spend my nights hunting down murderous beings from other dimensions."

Declan smiled down at her. He had inches on her. He had to be at least six feet and three inches. Taller than Jace and Alec. "I'm sure we can figure something out. Now, I'd best get you home before Magnus spikes my next tea with holy water instead of blood."

* * *

City of Ashes

Her body hurt. Everything ached. There were parts of her body that ached that she hadn't been aware _could_ ache.

They'd all taken a rough beating that afternoon. Alec, leaned against the elevator of the Institute, looked particularly rough. It hadn't been too long since he put away his crutches. There was a nasty gash down his cheek. His clothes, like all of theirs, were covered in thick, dried mud.

Jace looked pained. He'd fallen three stories and landed on a pile of metal. She saw him glance at her, his expression hard.

They were barely on speaking terms. He was still upset with her. They were cordial when in the presence of others and they still worked well together on hunts. But she knew she wasn't forgiven for the words she had used against him that night in her room.

"You're still mad." Jace observed lightly, glancing at Alec.

"Not mad." Alec mused. Eliza snorted at the look on his face. He was glaring.

Jace flailed his arm, quickly squeaking in pain. "You're mad!" Jace accused him.

Eliza pushed off the elevator wall next to Alec. "You did say that dragon demons were extinct." She pointed out. "And then we got our asses handed to us by one."

Jace rolled his eyes dramatically. "For the record, I said mostly extinct." He told her. "That should go on the record."

Alec groaned. "Mostly extinct is not close enough, Jace!" Oh, yes, he was angry.

Jace scoffed at him. "I'll just give the Silent Brothers a call and have them change all the passages referring to the dragon demons." He told Alec. "Tell them that mostly extinct doesn't count in Alec Lightwood's book and the passages must be changed at once."

Isabelle laughed lightly, shaking her head. Eliza had almost forgotten she was with them. Izzy had been inspecting herself in the mirrored wall of the elevator quietly. "Boys, calm down." She said. "What matters is that we had fun. So, we got a little more than we bargained for. But we had fun, right?" Izzy was smiling brightly at them. How she managed to get out without even a speck of mud on her, baffled Eliza. "Liz, you had fun, didn't you?"

The memory of slicing through the demon burned in her memory. That had been fun. The being tossed around like a ragdoll had not been fun. "Iz, did you miss the part of the evening where we got our asses handed to us?"

Izzy smiled sheepishly. "No." She said slowly. "I'm choosing to ignore that." Her nose crinkled up with distaste. "You guys smell like demon and trash. You should really shower once we get inside."

Eliza rolled her eyes just as the elevator screeched to a halt. Izzy pulled the door open and stepped out.

Eliza knew that the demon wasn't the only reason Alec was mad at Jace. He was mad about the hunt. It had been Jace's idea. Alec and Isabelle weren't exactly comfortable with the idea of going on demon hunts without a proper supervisor. They'd always had Hodge and now they had no one.

But Jace had wanted to go. And they would do anything for him.

Eliza had simply gone to get out of the Institute. She had needed out before she went crazy. Magnus was constantly busy, and Declan couldn't be out during the daylight.

When Jace had offered her a place to go, she had immediately said yes.

Hunts were the time they could be normal with each other. They almost worked well enough together to have been _parabatai_.

She watched Jace toss his jacket on the coat stand. Alec was sitting on the bench, carefully taking off his boots, trying to limit how much mud he got on the floor. Eliza leaned against the wall next to Alec and started to unlace her boots.

"I'm starved." Isabelle shook out her hair. "If Mom were here, she'd be making us dinner right now."

"While shouting about getting mud on the rugs." Jace said as he took off his belt.

Eliza kicked off her boots. "Well, you aren't wrong." A new voice said. Her head kicked up.

A woman stood in the doorway. She was dressed in an expensive black suit, her dark hair pinned back in a thick ropy braid. She had the same cool blue eyes as Alec. Eliza immediately recognized her as Maryse Lightwood.

Her eyes swept over the four teenagers, an unpleasant expression on her face. "Mom!" Izzy darted straight for Maryse and embraced her tightly. Alec stood and walked over to his mother and sister. Eliza noticed that he was putting more pressure on his injured leg than usual.

She looked over at Jace, waiting for him to join the Lightwood family embrace. He was, after all, an adopted Lightwood. But he stood in his place. He glanced at her, his mouth tight.

"Mom, where are Dad and Max?" Izzy asked.

The room was tense. Eliza got the feeling this wasn't the usual Lightwood family reunion. She didn't know Maryse Lightwood, but she automatically didn't like the expression on her face.

"Your father is in Alicante, tending to some important things. And Max is upstairs in his room, resting." Eliza knew that meant that Max wasn't supposed to be bothered. Her word was final. Maryse looked over Alec, her mouth turning down. "Alexander, are you _limping_?"

Alec's mouth worked, trying to form words he couldn't get out of his mouth. Izzy drifted to her brother, putting her arm around his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Mom. We ran into a Draconidae demon inside the subway tunnels." Izzy's words flowed smoothly. She was a much better liar than her older brother.

"Right. So, your limp has nothing at all to do with the Greater Demon you dealt with last week?"

The entire room went silent. Izzy and Eliza both turned to Jace. Alec wasn't about to try and lie to his mother and Eliza knew better than to try and speak before Maryse had even acknowledged her. She had the feeling she was in deep trouble with the Lightwood matriarch. She just wasn't sure why.

"A mistake." Jace said uneasily. "But-."

His next words were cut off by a child shouting his name. The boy darted past Maryse as she tried to grab at him. "I knew I heard the elevator! I'm so glad you guys are back!"

So, this is Max Lightwood, Eliza thought. He looked more like a seven-year-old than a ten-year-old. He was the only Lightwood child that wore glasses.

"And I know I told you to stay in your room." Maryse told him.

Max's face passed with a serious gravity. He shrugged. "Yeah, I don't remember that." His words made his brother crack a small smile. Max turned, looking at Jace with that familiar idolizing awe on his face. Alec ran his hands through Max's hair. "You guys fought a Greater Demon? That sounds so cool!" Max bounced.

Jace avoided the question, in a way only Jace could. "You were in Alicante. I bet that was a lot cooler."

Max rattled off about all the cool stuff he got to see in Alicante. The Armory, weapons forges. He told them how he learned about a new way to make seraph blades, so they last longer, and he wanted Hodge to teach him to do it.

Eliza frowned. His parents hadn't told him about Hodge? She let herself steal a glance at Maryse. She was startled to see that Maryse was already looking at her, distaste evident on her face.

"Isabelle, Alexander, take Max to his room." That wasn't a suggestion; it was an order. "Jace and…Eliza, meet me in the library once you've cleaned up."

Jace shifted. "Is this about our father?" Maryse stared back at him.

Alec cleared his throat. "Mom, it isn't their fault. We all had a part in what happened." He said.

Izzy agreed with him. "You can't punish them without punishing us too. We all did the same thing, Mother."

Maryse's mouth parted, but before she could say anything, Eliza finally spoke. "Abbadon isn't the problem." Eliza said, staring at Maryse. "It's Valentine. So, you and Alec don't have anything to do with this."

Maryse's mouth settled into a thin line. "The library."

* * *

Her hair was damp, thick wet tendrils clinging to her face. She swatted them away and quickly combed through her hair. She half-regretted cutting off her hair. On the one hand, it was more practical to keep it short. Enemies didn't have anything to grab a hold of. And she looked less like her old self. On the other, it was so _short_. She missed being able to braid it.

She used her stele to fix up most of the cosmetic damage on her body. The bruises faded into her skin, but she still felt the aches of being thrown into walls and slammed on the ground.

She dressed herself quickly in jeans and a thin light grey sweater. There was a soft knock on her door. Jace walked in, hair half-wet and hanging in his face. He was wearing just a white shirt and jeans.

They hadn't been alone together in days, both too fired up and upset. She truly didn't think they'd ever go back to normal. Not after everything that had happened. Not after all the lies he thought were truths.

"Thought we could walk together." His voice was just as flat as it had been the past few days.

She nodded, joining him in the hall and shutting her door. "On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how bad do you think this is going to be?" She could only imagine how thick Maryse's anger was going to be.

"Probably eleven. Maryse can be pretty…intense." He cracked a smile. "But, she's a good mom. The Lightwoods never even laid a hand on me. It was an adjustment after Valentine."

The air became thick. They had been trying their best to not bring him up, the unspoken monster between the two of them. Their father.

"I can imagine." She murmured. They came upon the library, Jace hesitating to knock. "Don't be nervous, big brother. She can only hurt you as much as you let her."

He looked at her, tawny eyes narrowed. "Big brother?"

She was trying. She really was trying her best to make the lie believable. Jace wasn't her big brother. She was pretty sure she was older than him. But in the new world that they lived in, Valentine's world, Jace was her big brother. He was Jonathan.

She nodded. "Just by a few minutes. Don't get cocky. I'm still better than you at practically everything." She pressed against the door and pushed it open.

Maryse Lightwood was sitting in what had been Hodge's arm chair, a large glass of red wine in her hand.

"Maryse, you wanted to see us." Jace's voice was calm and approaching.

The Lightwood matriarch jumped just a bit at the sound of his voice, the wine sloshing in the glass. She turned, her eyes boring into them. "You were quiet coming in."

Jace didn't move. There was a dynamic between them that she didn't understand and couldn't begin to. Her eyes darted between Maryse and Jace, waiting for one of them to break the ice. Jace was the first.

"You never sang to me, you know." He told her. She gave him a confused look, almost a little taken aback. "My room was right next to Alec's and the walls were thin. You sang to Alec and Izzy when we were all little. The song was in French."

She didn't know where he was going, but it probably wasn't good. "I didn't sing to you because you weren't afraid of the dark, Jonathan." Jace retorted that all ten-year-olds were scared of the dark. "Eliza, Jonathan, please sit down. Now." Her tone was every bit of demanding.

The two of them crossed the room, Jace slowly and annoyingly. They sat on the loveseat across from Maryse. "My name is Jace." He reminded her.

Her eyes narrowed. Eliza was bothered by how much she resembled Alec. "How long have you known, Jonathan? How long have you known that Valentine was your father?"

Jace took a long time to gather his response. "As long as you have, of course."

Eliza wanted to smack him. His smart-ass responses weren't going to get him anywhere, she knew that. Maryse said that she didn't believe him.

"I can assure you that Jace never knew that Valentine was his father. Not until last week. Until last week, Jace believed that his father was Michael Wayland." Eliza told Maryse. "Jace never knew anything."

Maryse trained her icy blue eyes on Eliza. Sizing her up, reading her. "I remember you from when you were a toddler. You used to play with my Alexander. The both of you did. And all these years…Jonathan, I let you in my home. Near my children. How could I not…? How did I not know who you were?"

"If it's any consolation, I didn't know either. I was told I was the son of Michael Wayland. We lived in a country house that belonged to the Wayland family."

"It's not." Maryse snapped. "You came to me with the name Jonathan. Do you know how many Shadowhunter boys are named Jonathan? Valentine and Michael both had sons named Jonathan. But I had assumed, wrongly so, that Valentine's son perished in the fire that killed his entire family. I never thought…I never began to think suspiciously of you, Jonathan. Not when you belonged to Michael Wayland. But now, you're sitting here, and I can see Valentine all over you. The way you sit, in your eyes. The plain defiance inside of you."

Jace sat straighter, his hands balled into fists. Eliza didn't quite understand. Maryse had been his mother, his guardian, for years. She had loved him and cared for him. How could all of that change within days?

Maybe she didn't understand because she didn't have parents or guardians. Not ones that had cared for her, anyways.

"I'm still me, Maryse. I'm still the same. Nothing has changed."

Everything had changed. He was just in denial.

She turned from him, her iced glare moving to the fireplace. "You had to have known, Jonathan. When we spoke of Michael, surely you couldn't have believed that to have been the same person that Valentine was. That it was the same man who was raising you."

Jace swallowed hard. "You were pretty vague about Michael Wayland. You only told me that he had loved me, that he was brave and that he was a good man. And I was a boy who loved and idolized my father. Of course, that's what I thought."

Eliza leaned her head back on the loveseat, sighing heavily. "And the photographs? Michael Wayland and Valentine Morgenstern are not the same person, as we've discovered.

Eliza was growing tired of the accusations and she knew Jace was too. "You told me that they were destroyed in the Uprising. I wonder if he did it on purpose." He bemused bitterly.

Eliza leaned back up, licking her lips slowly. She cleared her throat, calling their attention to herself. "This is quickly becoming boring, I'm afraid to tell you." Jace closed his eyes. Maryse narrowed hers. "And he did, by the way. Destroy everything on purpose. He told me."

"Excuse me?" Maryse hissed.

Eliza sat straight, crossing her legs. "Jace may have been raised by Michael Wayland but I was raised by Valentine Morgenstern. I can tell you honestly and freely that Jace has been completely ignorant about everything for his entire life. Meanwhile, I have not. I was raised outside of Alicante by Valentine. I was tortured and I was punished from the time I could use my stele and steady a sword in my hand. I knew everything. He destroyed all of his evidence from the Circle after the Uprising, before he 'died' and moved us. I knew about Jace and I knew where he was. Jace knew absolutely nothing other than he was Michael Wayland's son. If you want innocence, you'll find it in Jace. If you want someone to blame, look to me."

Maryse looked shocked at her behavior. She clearly wasn't used to being spoken to in that tone. "I don't trust either of you." She finally said. "I cannot afford to trust anyone who has been touched by his influence."

"You followed him." Jace's voice was cold and harsh. Eliza looked at him, mouth half-open with shock. She couldn't believe he'd said it. And from the look on his face, he couldn't believe it either.

"And I'm still paying for it. I pay for it every day." Maryse snapped. She had a dark look on her face. "Just tell me that you hate him. Tell me that you cannot stand him, and you despise everything about him."

Eliza clamped her mouth shut. She knew her response wasn't needed. Maryse would never trust her, not her who had grown up under Valentine's eyes, not her who had been groomed and trained by him.

She wanted Jace's response. She wanted Jace to scream that he hated Valentine, that he could kill him. And Eliza and Maryse both knew that he wouldn't. That he couldn't.

His hands were clenched tightly. His knuckles a stark white that stood out against the rest of his skin. "I can't." He whispered. "I don't understand why you can't trust me. It doesn't make sense."

There was such an earnest look of pain on Maryse's face. The kind of pain that Eliza assumed only a mother could feel. Eliza supposed that if she had any respect for Maryse, a decent amount anyways, that'd she'd feel bad for her.

"I can't trust you because you sound so incredibly honest, Jonathan and the only other person I've ever met who could be so persuasive was your father."

 _Not his father, my father_ , Eliza thought. Jace was being punished for her lie. He was on the verge of losing everything he had because she told a lie. If she weren't such a coward, if she didn't go weak in the presence of her father, Jace would be spared.

"He has many means of persuasion. Lying is the easiest and the gentlest." Eliza told them. "Lying is a kindness from him. It's merciful. If he really wants to persuade you, he'll hurt you. Or threaten you. Or worse, threaten the ones you love." She sneaked a glance at Jace, who thankfully wasn't looking. His attention was turned to his hands. She looked back at Maryse. Their eyes met. "You think that you know my father because you joined his little cult group back at the Academy. You think you understand him because you were friends. You think you were betrayed by him because he lied to you. Well, let me tell you that being his daughter is much worse. He ruined me. He beat me and pretended to love me, and he _ruined_ me. And I can only begin to imagine everything he put Jace through. But sure, Mrs. Lightwood, he lied to you. So, go ahead and take your pain out on Jace. We all understand."

Eliza exhaled deeply and rolled her shoulders. She glanced back at the window at the back of the library. The sky was turning a rosy shade of pink. Almost dusk.

Maryse's mouth worked, words trying to form that wouldn't speak. Jace's eyes were trained on his clenched hands. Eliza stood up, brushing off her jeans. "Well, this has been fun. Fortunately, I have a date this evening and it's almost dusk, so I have to go."

Jace's head snapped up, face alert. "A _date_?"

She sucked in a breath. She hadn't exactly told anyone about Declan. Just Magnus. She knew how Jace would react and she wasn't exactly sure she was ready for Alec and Izzy to know she was dating a vampire.

"Yes, Jace. A date. If you need me, call Magnus." She turned to Maryse, pointedly staring at her. "Who I will mention saved Alec's life last week. You can send him a hand-written thank you note. He appreciates them a lot." She strode from the library, slamming the door on her way out.


	13. Chapter 13

"How was your hunt this afternoon?" Declan was…unusually involved with her life as a Shadowhunter. He seemed to take a lot of interest in her activities as the Angel's Child.

She shrugged as they walked down the street. "Well, I got my ass handed to me by a dragon demon and then my brother got his ass handed to him by his adoptive mother, who I may mention actually despises me."

Declan stopped walking, jerking her to a halt. "Are you alright? Were you hurt?" His caramel eyes scanned over her, searching for any sign of injury. His hands were gentle but firm on her shoulders, cold as always.

She smiled, ducking her head so he wouldn't see the blush creeping to her cheeks. "Yes. I mean, yeah, I'm fine. Some healing runes fixed me right up."

He may have been a member of the blood-sucking undead, but his smile was like heaven. Brilliant, warm and comforting.

His hands traveled to her face, cupping her jawline. He raised her head, making her look at him. "I know that you're some badass, kickass Shadowhunter, but you can die. You're mortal. I'm afraid to admit that your mortality scares the absolute hell out of me, Eliza. I do worry about you quite often."

Her heart felt like it was melting. He managed to be inhumanly sweet without making her want to vomit. He wasn't afraid to show he cared.

She put her hands on his wrists, her thumbs rubbing against the skin. "Thank you. For worrying about me. It's very sweet."

Her back pocket vibrated. Cell phone. She'd started carrying a disposable one so Clary could reach her more easily and so that the hospital could get ahold of her if anything changed with her mother.

It vibrated again. She pulled away from Declan and took the phone from her back pocket. Luke's name flashed on the screen, indicating he was calling her. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Is there a problem?" Declan asked quietly.

She shook her head. "No. It's my mother…I mean, her friend. My uncle, I think. Just give me a moment, please." She walked a few feet away and flipped the phone open, answering the call. "Luke? Is it my mother? Has she woken up? Is she okay?"

She heard Luke take a deep breath. "It's your brother, actually." She couldn't stop the roll of her eyes. She couldn't imagine what Jace had gotten himself into and the amount of trouble it took for Luke to be calling. "How fast can you get down to the Hunter's Moon in Manhattan?"

She said that they were in the city, so it wouldn't take too long. "Wait, isn't that a…a wolf den, sort of?" She bit her lip, glancing over at Declan. Luke said yes. "It's just…I'm with someone right now. On a date."

Luke huffed a breath. "Eliza, you need to come get your brother immediately before he gets himself killed. I couldn't care less if you brought company. Come get Jace. Now." He hung up.

She shut the phone, sliding it back into her pocket. She looked over at Declan. "Wanna go to a wolf den with me?" She called to him.

His perfect mouth dropped. "You're joking." She didn't smile or laugh. "You aren't joking."

Then she smiled. "It'll be fun."

* * *

The Hunter's Moon loomed over them. There was a dead body on the sidewalk, blood splattered on the ground. "Well, this is inviting." Eliza muttered.

Declan hovered behind her. She could feel the slight nerves radiating from him. He had every reason to be nervous. He was walking into the den of the downtown werewolves.

She walked forward, pushing the door open. The bar was a wreck. The wolves were a wreck. Her nose wrinkled at the smell. They all turned to her.

"Shadowhunter." One of them hissed. "Haven't the Nephilim caused enough damage tonight?"

"Bat, easy." The girl behind the bar warned him. "Are you here to drink?"

Eliza said no curtly, but said thank you for the offer. The wolves were all glaring at Declan. "Luke called. We're here to pick up my brother, Jace."

The girl behind the bar nodded solemnly. She said that she'd take them to the back. She came from behind the bar. "Your brother is an asshole, you know. A huge asshole."

Eliza smiled. "Oh, you have no idea. I'm Eliza. Eliza Morgenstern."

And with that, the air was sucked from the room. Declan put a hand on her shoulder, just a simple sign showing that he was there. Protection if she needed it.

The girl shifted. "Maia Roberts."

Maia led them to the back of the bar. Maia motioned to the door of the back office. Eliza murmured a thank you and pushed the door open. Something whizzed near her and her hand went up. The pencil caught in between her fingers.

She stared ahead. Jace was sitting behind the desk in an old leather chair. There were cuts and bruises on his face, indicating a fight. She tossed the pencil back to him. "Is that any way to greet your sister?"

Jace rolled his eyes. "My bad. How wonderful to see you, Lizzie." His voice was drowning in sarcasm. His golden eyes focused in on Declan. "Who's this?" He asked, voice hollow.

Eliza glanced back at Declan. He stepped in front of her, walking towards the desk. He extended his hand to Jace. "Declan Kensley. I'm courting your sister."

She braced herself for the reaction. The cold smile he'd give, the snide remark. Jace extended his own hand, shaking Declan's hand firmly. "You're courting my sister?" Declan said yes proudly. Jace looked back at her and then to Declan again. "You're a vampire." Again, Declan said yes. "Well, if you hurt my sister's feelings, I'll have to stake you."

Declan looked back at her, such a gleeful expression on his face.

The door opened again, Jace threw the pencil again. It stuck into the wall next to Luke's face. Clary walked into the room, Simon behind her.

"Eliza?" Clary asked.

She waved. "Guess Luke thought we both could provide some help." They both looked at Jace. "Speaking of help, what the hell are you thinking? Trying to fight an entire pack of werewolves? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

She imagined that she sounded like what their mother would sound like. Gentle but reprimanding. Firm, but kind.

"Get out." Jace told Simon. "I don't want you in here."

Clary's mouth dropped. She told Jace that he needed to remember that Simon had saved all their lives just a week ago. Simon waved his hand. "I'll wait in the hall. It's fine." He muttered.

Eliza put a hand on Declan's arm. "Would you go keep him company? This shouldn't take long and then we can get dinner." He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple and left the room with Simon.

"Who's the hottie?" Clary asked, green eyes sparkling.

Eliza couldn't help but smile. "My boyfriend, I guess. I don't know, he's _courting_ me." Clary looked impressed. She turned her attention back to Jace. "Well, are you going to tell us what's wrong with you?"

Jace gave her a cold look. "The joy that is my adoptive mother kicked me out. She told me never to come back and she made it very clear that you were not welcome either. But you had a date with the British vampire, so you weren't there for that."

She stared at him. Jace. Beautiful, beautiful Jace Wayland. Her _brother_. Or so everyone else thought. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

Luke was frowning. "I've known Maryse Lightwood for a very long time. She's never been on my favorites list, but I don't think she'd kick you out, Jace. What exactly did she say?"

Jace looked at Eliza. "She basically accused me of doing everything that my sister was doing. Helping Valentine, trying to secure the Mortal Cup, the list goes on. She thinks that we're spies."

Luke shook his head, looking to the floor. Jace and Luke both knew Maryse Lightwood better than she did, but she thought their visions might be skewed. Jace's by the blind adoration for his mother figure. Luke by the woman he had known too many years ago.

"Maryse is hurt." Luke told them. "She loved Valentine, as we all did. He betrayed her and he hurt her. She's going to the extreme to protect herself from Valentine's son. You'll simply need to reassure her, Jace."

Luke was being reasonable. Jace was not. He argued that Maryse shouldn't need anything from him, she was an adult.

"Jace, you need to go back to the Institute. Alec and Izzy need you. They need you to be bigger than Maryse." Clary told him.

He said no. "I'm seventeen, practically an adult by Shadowhunter standards. I can take care of myself." Eliza snorted. He shot her a glare. "I'm entitled to compensation from the Clave."

"No, you're not. You aren't an adult by the Clave's standards yet. You can't get a salary from the Clave. If the Lightwoods refuse to care for you, the Clave will appoint someone to do it for them."

Jace rolled his eyes. "That won't happen. I won't be shipped off somewhere. I'll get a job to make money." Luke and Clary both said he couldn't do that either. "I will not go back to that place. She wants me to say that I hate him. And I _can't._ "

Her heart wrenched. The pain in his voice killed her. He had been raised by a different brand of Valentine. He got the loving but harsh father. She got the cruel father. She hated him. It was easy to admit that she hated him. For Jace, it wasn't.

"I understand." Luke's voice was softer than she had ever heard it before.

She watched Jace's face soften, his lips part. Jace hadn't come to the Hunter's Moon to pick a fight with the wolves. He'd come to speak to Luke.

"Did she really say that?" Clary asked. "That she didn't want you there anymore?"

He shrugged in response. "She said it would be better for everyone if I stayed somewhere else for a while."

Eliza worried her lip between her teeth. Luke offered Jace a spot in his house. Jace mumbled a thanks. "You need to go back to the Institute and find out what's going on with her. It's just an option."

Clary offered to go with him. "Luke, will you come too?"

Luke's mouth dropped. Eliza looked at him with surprise. "Jace, I've been living in New York for fifteen years and never once gone to the Institute. Maryse is not fond of me." Jace was quiet when he begged for Luke to go. "Yes. I'll go with you."

They all looked to Eliza. Clary's stare was insistent. _Offer to go_ , her face said. Luke's face said the same thing.

They didn't understand. Jace and Eliza were not on the same wavelength anymore. She had messed it up too much. Ruined everything between them. They only played nice when they were hunting. He wouldn't want her there.

"I'll send Declan home. I'll go with you too." She told him.

For a split second, just for the moment when their eyes met, it was only them. Just Jace. Just Eliza. Just the two of them. He had the cruelest expression on his face. But that was the problem. It wasn't intentionally cruel. His eyes were kind, understanding and forgiving.

"No, it's okay. Go have fun on your date. Maryse hates you anyways, so you wouldn't be helping my cause any."

She wanted to say something, almost wondering if she should insist on going. But she knew better. Jace didn't want that. He genuinely wanted her to be with Declan.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Her brain tickled. The warm feeling she got whenever Magnus was close lit her brain on fire. She knew it was the link they shared. She put her hand on her head.

"Liz, are you okay?" Jace was standing up, walking towards her. That disgustingly sweet look of worry on his face.

She nodded, wiping her forehead. "Magnus. He's here. Outside, I think." Luke looked confused. He must have been the only one unaware of her bond with the High Warlock of Brooklyn. "We share a psychic link. We can talk to each other mentally, sense each other when we're near. It's helpful. A little bold, but helpful. He's outside the bar right now. The alley, I think, to be more precise."

Jace frowned. "He keeps tabs on you like this?"

Before she could begin to protest just how absurd that was, Luke interjected. "I called him here. I asked him to check out what happened in the alley. See if he could figure anything out."

"So, Declan and I will stay behind with Magnus while you guys go back to the Institute. We'll keep each other updated."

Clary agreed with her, saying that sounded like a great idea. "Luke, let's give them a minute." The younger girl grabbed Luke by the arm and practically dragged him out of the room, shutting the door quietly.

Eliza looked up from the floor to see that Jace was already looking at her. "You're being courted." There was a hint of the old Jace in his words. Snark and wit covering concern.

She nodded once. "Declan is a bit old-fashioned." She told him.

"He's a vampire. You're being courted by a vampire."

She laughed, leaning back against the wall. "It sounds absurd, doesn't it?" He agreed, half a smile on his face. "I brought a vampire to a werewolf den. I might be the worst person to court."

"Not to mention the fact that our father despises Downworlders and tried to have them eradicated." He pointed out.

The air in the room staled. Yes, there was that.

Jace's smile fell. "Anyways, I meant what I said to him. If he hurts you in any way, I'll stake him. Then, I'll cut off his head and leave his body out in the sun to burn. No one gets away with hurting my little sister."

She rolled her eyes, pushing off the wall. "You're really going to milk the older sibling thing, aren't you? Well, if you must. It's time we get going. Like I said, I brought a vampire to a wolf den."

* * *

Declan's hand brushed against hers as they walked. "Your sister seems very lovely. Your brother as well, though he seems intense."

"I've only know Clary for a few weeks and Jace a few months. Jace and I used to be very close until recently."

"May I ask what happened?"

She stopped walking, placing herself in front of him. She dropped his hand. "I lied to him. Until last week, Jace didn't know he was my brother. Jace didn't know he had any family at all."

"Does this have anything to do with your father?" He asked quietly.

Her eyes darted around the park. It had cleared out a while ago, no one too keen on being out in the middle of the night. The trees rustled in a slight September wind, the air not yet too chilly.

"It has _everything_ to do with him. I'm…I'm afraid of him. I've been afraid for my entire life and coming here, it changed me. It made me think that I could stop him, beat him at his own game. But I can't. So, I'm stuck here waiting for his next big move, waiting for him to hurt someone else or to use me against the people I care about."

"Eliza-."

"No, Declan, you don't understand. You're a vampire, a Downworlder. He could kill you without thinking anything of it. I'm putting you in danger and I don't think I could live with myself if something happened to you because of me."

He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. He put his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. "Eliza, I am not like that mortal boy your sister keeps around. I've been a vampire for a very long time and there is a reason that I've stayed the head of the London clan. I am perfectly capable of protecting myself. And I will give my life to protect yours." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "As for your father, I'd love to see him try and take me from you."

He pulled away, once again standing beside her and linking their hands together. He looked up at the sky, clicking his teeth.

"Our night is coming to an end. I'll walk you back to Magnus'."

As they began to walk, she let out a soft laugh. "Declan, that mortal boy that Clary keeps around, he killed a Greater Demon last week. He saved all our lives."

* * *

"Why did Luke call you to the Hunter's Moon tonight?"

Magnus was sitting at the desk in his study, staring intently at a book. Chairman Meow was sitting on the desk, his small little kitten body taking up hardly any room at all.

Magnus looked up from his book. "A werewolf cub was killed. He wanted to know if I could obtain anything from what was left behind."

"The mess outside of the bar…that was from a cub?" She whispered.

He shut his book. "I'm afraid so, little dove. And just two days ago, a warlock was found dead. The warlock was completely drained of blood, yet it seemed that with the cub, the assailant was interrupted before his little ritual could take place."

She felt ill. Who would do such a thing? "Did you find out anything?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no." He stood up from the desk, picking the kitten up. "Please don't worry yourself with these horrors, little dove. You have things troubling your mind, I can sense it."

She waved the idea away. "Magnus, it's my job to worry about stuff like this, quite literally. As a Shadowhunter, it's my duty to protect everything in the Shadow World."

"As long as Shadowhunters and mundanes aren't being killed, it's my duty to protect the Downworlders. Unless, you feel bound to protect those like me because of the past?"

She pursed her lips at him, but didn't deny the truth in the question.

"Atoning for the sins of thy father. How noble of you."

She bit her tongue. He wasn't cross with her, not really. He was only tired. Maybe scared, too, just a small bit.

"Maryse Lightwood is back at the Institute." She told him. "She kicked Jace out. She's not very pleasant."

Magnus laughed. "No, that she is not. Speaking of Lightwoods and pleasantness, how is Alexander?" His catlike eyes sparked in the dim light of his study.

"Healing up nicely, thanks to you."

Her phone rang, putting a halt to any further conversation about Alec. It was the Institute. Who on earth would be calling her at such a late hour?

"Hello?" She answered.

"Liz, it's Jace. I need you."

Her heart skipped about two beats. "Wha-What is it? What happened with Maryse?"

"The Inquisitor. She's coming here to question me. To question us. Maryse thought if we weren't here, nothing could happen but then I came back and…Liz, you have to get here now."

The Inquisitor. A cold feeling filled her body. The Inquisitor meant the Sword.

"Liz?"

She licked her lip, staring at Magnus. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't worry, everything will be all right." She hung up, pocketing the phone. She looked back to Magnus. "I've got to change and go to the Institute. I have a date with the Inquisitor." She smiled uneasily.

"Safe travels, little dove."


	14. Chapter 14

She pushed open the doors to the Institute, breathing in the familiar air. Church was waiting for her as she walked in. "Hello handsome." She cooed, bending down to run her fingers between the spot on his head.

He curled towards her, letting out a deep purr. She stood back up. "Okay, sweet boy, take me to Jace."

Church let out a displeased noise, but he got back to his feet anyways. He led her through the vast Institute to the greenhouse. Jace was right where she imagined he would be, standing in the midst of the morning glories.

"What are you thinking?" She asked him, announcing herself.

He turned his face towards her. "What?" He asked.

She looked around. "You only come up here to think. So, what are you thinking?"

He shrugged. "The Inquisitor. I've not heard very assuring things."

She went to stand next to him. "Just think about this: she can't be worse than our father." The smile she gave him was meant to be reassuring on his part, but she wasn't sure it wasn't for her as well.

* * *

Her old room was still the same. Granted, it had only been a few days since it had been abandoned for the more comfortable option at Magnus' place.

Her bed was still ruffled from the last time she had slept in it. She had cleared her clothes out, save for a few items she had left behind in case she ever needed to crash at the Institute.

She ran her hand over the dark wood of the vanity desk.

There was a soft knock on the door. It swung open. Alec and Jace were standing in the doorway. "My mom wants the two of you in the library." Alec said.

She sucked in a breath. That could only mean one thing. The Inquisitor had arrived. "Then we mustn't keep her waiting."

She left her room to join them in the hall. Alec was standing at an angle away from Jace. Her eyes narrowed in on his neck. Was that…?

"Alexander, what in the name of the Angel is on your neck?" She gasped.

His face turned a furious red and his hand flew up to cover his neck. Jace let out a loud laugh. "He _fell_." Jace told her.

She snorted. "Sure."

Alec delivered them to the library and left them there. The door was left half open. Jace looked back at Eliza before pushing the door the rest of the way open and stepping inside. She followed him inside.

The library was shrouded in cold air. She looked ahead, the fire was no longer burning. Her eyes ventured upwards, the light from the freshly risen sun glaring in. Declan was safely tucked away from any harm it could do him, sleeping somewhere dark.

Her eyes fell. As by instinct, her eyes landed on Hodge's old worn chair. It was filled, but not by Hodge.

"Thank you for coming." The person said.

The person rose from the chair with a grace only Shadowhunters possessed. Her smoke colored cloak fell to where her boots stopped. She wore a stiff-fitting slate suit. Her pale blonde hair was slicked back into tight bun. Her steel grey eyes were cut narrowly.

Eliza could only assume that this was the Inquisitor.

The woman's mouth twitched, but then her cool expression resumed. "Eliza and Jonathan Morgenstern?"

"Yes. This is them." A voice said from behind them.

Maryse was walking towards them. She had changed into night clothes, having swapped the black suit for a silk robe.

The Inquisitor glided towards them, almost as if her feet didn't even bother touching the ground. Her pale white hand reached out and she grabbed Jace by the chin, forcing him to stare at her.

Eliza jerked, but bit her tongue. Her smart mouth hadn't helped much with Maryse and she was sure that it would only do worse with the Inquisitor.

But the woman saw the small movement. She turned away from Jace, glaring at Eliza. Her mouth curled in contempt. "You look exactly like your father." It was by no means a compliment. An insult of the highest regard.

Eliza let a half smile slip. "That must make you wonder what else dear old dad passed on to me besides the looks."

It didn't seem possible, but the woman in front of her paled even more.

"I'm kidding." Eliza breathed. "It's a joke. I tried to kill him, I live with a warlock, and I'm dating a vampire. What else do you want from me?"

Jace let out a breathy noise, not so easily mistaken for quiet laughter. Jace may have been one of the few, if not the only person, who appreciated and understood her sense of humor.

The Inquisitor stepped back. "You will call me Inquisitor and nothing else. Is this understood?"

"Ten-four." Eliza quipped.

Jace whipped to stare at her, an incredulous look on his face. She cut him a look before turning back to the woman.

"I go by Jace Wayland. Not boy or Jonathan Morgenstern." Jace said.

By the look on her face, the woman didn't agree with that. "Your name is Jonathan Morgenstern and that is what you will answer to, boy. Anything else means you are a liar, just like your father."

"Between the two of us, Jace isn't the liar. That would be me, who lied about her identity for months." Eliza waved her hand, smiling brightly.

"Don't undermine me, Liz. I like to believe I'm a liar in my own way." Jace snipped.

The Inquisitor smiled at them, her smile cold and unwelcoming. "The two of you are so like your father. So intolerant of authority. I promise you that if you spin any of that intolerance towards me," she reached out, grabbing Jace's chin sharply again, "you will envy the fate that your namesake was awarded."

She let his face go and stepped away. Jace's chin was red with finger marks. He glanced at Eliza.

"Lucifer." Eliza said. "She means Lucifer, the Morning Star. God cast him to the pits of hell and Ms. Inquisitor plans to do worse to us." She explained. She turned to the Inquisitor. "Speaking of, is there a Mr. Inquisitor? Or are you so frigid because you aren't being welcomed home from work in the proper manner?"

"Liz." Jace said sharply. She turned her face towards him. There were slow rising spots of blood on his chin from the Inquisitors nails.

"Inquisitor Herondale, they've both agreed to trial by the Sword." Maryse cut in.

 _Finally,_ Eliza thought. She had wondered how long it would take for Maryse to swoop in and cut off her smart mouth. She had wondered how long it would take Jace to stop her from putting her foot in her mouth.

If she smarted off, Jace couldn't have the chance.

The Inquisitor turned to Maryse. "Maryse, you understand that the Clave is displeased with you. Your previous allegiance to the Circle and the events that have recently transpired are…suspicious. Valentine set a perfect trap for you and Robert and the two of you fell into it like little rabbits."

"It wasn't a trap." Jace told her. "He called me Wayland because he knew they would take me if they thought Michael Wayland was my father."

It was the truth. Eliza knew that much. He had wanted Jace safe and to ensure that, he called him by Wayland. The Lightwoods couldn't say no to Michael Wayland's orphaned son. Not when Robert had been his _parabatai_.

"Jonathan, have you heard of the cuckoo bird?"

"Pardon?"

"Cuckoo birds have a bad habit of laying their eggs in the nests of other birds. After the baby hatches, the cuckoo bird pushes the other baby birds from the nest. The parents end up working overtime to feed the bird that killed their babies." The Inquisitor explained.

"Are you insinuating that my brother planned to kill the Lightwood children? That's quite rude and ignorant of you." Eliza told her.

The woman turned sharply on her. "Excuse me?"

The look Jace was giving her was begging her to keep her mouth shut. But if she didn't say something, he would. And she couldn't let him.

"They're his siblings, more than I could ever hope to be. Alec is his best friend, his _parabatai_. Izzy may not be able to cook, but she means well. And Max, he idolizes Jace and Jace adores him. To even begin to assume that Jace would think of harming them is ignorant and to say it, in front of Maryse, it's rude. For the Inquisitor, you aren't very inquisitive."

The woman's face turned an angry shade of dark red. "You impertinent and arrogant little girl! How dare you? Did your vile father bring you up like this?"

She smirked. "Not intentionally. Jace got the Wayland Manor and spaghetti baths. I got lashings and if I was truly displeasing, a good smack to the face. The impertinence and arrogance are a result of being sent here."

"And your brother? How was he raised?" She asked.

Jace answered for himself. "Just as you think. He taught me how to pull the legs off out insects, beat small animals, all the fun things like that. Let the world sing with rejoice that he faked his death and abandoned me before he could instruct me on how to properly rape and pillage." His words were full of a cool anger.

"He certainly didn't teach either of you how to control your tempers. The two of you may appear to be angels, but you are certainly not. I know just where to send you to ensure that you stay calm."

"Please tell me you're sending us to our rooms." Eliza said.

"Just the opposite. The prisons of the Silent City. I belief your blatant insolence will dissolve after spending the night there."

"Imogen!" Maryse's voice was high. She hadn't known.

Eliza knew enough about the prison cells of the Silent City. Of the hundreds of levels, the cells were at the lowest, beneath even the dead Silent Brothers. The cells were reserved for the most violent of criminals. The Inquisitor- Imogen Herondale- must have truly been worried to send them there.

Eliza hadn't expected to be sent to the cells. She was only trying to protect Jace, but she had made the situation much worse for him instead.

* * *

The cells were much colder than she had expected. Colder and darker. She couldn't make out anything in the pitch black of the dark.

She had been cuffed to the wall, only able to walk a short distance inside the small cell. The only consolation was that she'd been stuck inside a cell with Jace.

She was sure it wasn't for lack of space.

"What were you thinking?" Jace asked her, his voice echoing slightly.

She looked in the direction of his voice, but saw nothing. Only darkness. Her eyes burned from straining to see what she couldn't. She closed them, leaning her head against the stone wall. "Just now? Be more specific, please."

"Earlier, in the library, with the Inquisitor. What the hell were you thinking, Liz? Talking to her like that. Acting like that."

She sighed heavily. "I believe I laid it on much too thick. I was doing my best to channel my inner Jace Wayland."

She wondered what face he was making across the cell from her. "Why?"

"To protect you. Not that it did much good." He asked her to explain further. "I know you. You would've opened your mouth and put your foot directly in it. I was doing the sisterly thing and preventing you from putting yourself in worse favor. She didn't like you before she met you and she hated you even more after laying eyes on you. With me, Jace, I'm a lot worse off than you. You have the Lightwoods to vouch for you. I have _no one_."

"You have Magnus. And…Declan."

She snorted. What a lineup. "The High Warlock of Brooklyn and the head of the London vampire clan. They don't have much pull with the Clave, Jace. If there's a chance that only one of us gets out of here with only the shame of the Morgenstern name on them, I'm going to make sure it's you."

She heard his breathing deepen. He definitely didn't agree with her. "Eliza, you can't do that to yourself. You'll be taking the blame and punishment for something you didn't do. Do you know what they'll do to you?"

She swallowed. She wasn't sure, but she knew it wouldn't be fun. "Big brother, listen to me. You have people to go back to. The Lightwoods, Clary, that incessant faerie waitress. What do I have? I have lied and ruined so many things, so many lives. Look at what I've done to us. We barely speak anymore. If serving penance for the sins of our father and my own sins is the way to atonement, it's the least I can do."

His chain jingled and she knew he had moved. She heard the echo of his footsteps. "Is that what you think?" He whispered. "That you ruined us?"

"It's what I know, Jace." She replied easily.

Before Jace could take the conversation further, a sound cut into the air. A high sound, a scream that exuded pure terror. It seemed like forever before it ended.

"What was that?" She asked quietly.

All she heard in response was the clang of Jace's handcuffs scraping against metal. She heard his body slid down the stone wall and she knew he was sitting. "Don't speak." His voice was barely a whisper, not loud enough to resonate an echo.

More screams came and went, splitting into the air, ringing high in her ears. After the screams came crashes. Crashes and screams, screams and crashes.

Eliza didn't think that any of it was supposed to happen. Very few things brought about the feeling of fear in her. Her father, losing any of those she cared about, and…whatever the hell was happening above her.

Light blossomed in front of the cell. Her head jerked up. Brother Jeremiah was standing in front of their cell, a torch in his hand. His hood had fallen back, letting the light reveal the mutilation of his face. His mouth, once sewn shut had been ripped open. Covered in…blood.

He started to step forward towards them and then startled forward, falling to the floor. There were cracks in the air as his bones shattered against the hard stone. The torch rolled towards their cell door.

Eliza stared over at Jace, his face stricken with fear. He darted forward as quick and far as the handcuff would allow him to, reaching out for the torch.

Silent Brothers were not meant to use their mouths. They were silent for a reason. But there lay Brother Jeremiah, his mouth gashed open. She was sure that the sounds they had heard above were the agonized screams of Nephilim who hadn't opened their mouths in centuries.

Eliza bit back fear. She couldn't be afraid, she wouldn't allow it. Whatever came for her, it would never be as bad as her father.

Jace reached again and this time, grasped the torch in his hand. He used his other hand to bring his finger to his lips, motioning for her silence.

She couldn't have made a noise if she wanted. The one coming for them brought the fear right back. It was a disgusting noise, the noise that something wet and sluggish makes as it drags itself forward.

Nothing came. Nothing stepped into the light of the torch.

Somehow, she was not comforted by that. Jace rattled his wrist, throwing it against the wall. What the devil was he doing?

The noise came again, closer to them now. Jace stumbled backward as the whispers came. Dark, terrifying whispers. Whispers of an assured death.

She wanted to scream at him to let the torch fall, to let the light die, but she couldn't form the words. They were stuck in her throat.

The closed door behind Brother Jeremiah's body began to open slowly. She knew that what pushed itself through the door belonged to that dark sluggish noise. It was formless, black like the night. It had eyes the color of blue ice.

Then it lunged.

All she saw before the darkness swallowed her was the glow of Jace's face in the torchlight.

* * *

Briefly, she wondered if everything had been a dream. Maybe that _thing_ had been a nightmare from being in the prison cells.

The darkness was there again, as familiar as ever.

"Eliza." The coldness of the familiar voice made the hairs on the back of her neck raise.

No. No, it couldn't be. Her stomach filled with the bitter feeling of the fear he brought.

"Jonathan." The voice came again.

She heard him stir. "Who's there?" Jace's voice was groggy.

"I'm disappointed that you don't recognize the voice of your father." Light came then, blazing like the fire of hell.

Valentine stood, guarding himself behind the dead body of Brother Jeremiah. He held a witchlight stone in his hand.

"What…What was that thing that came?" Jace asked.

Eliza rested her head against the wall, stretching her legs out. "A beast of hell that our doting father released, I'm sure." She bit icily.

Valentine's dark eyes scoured the cell, running over the conditions of the two of them. "Jonathan, you're hurt." He stepped closer to the bars of the cell. "Who put you in here?"

"The Inquisitor. She's a very cross woman." Jace answered.

Valentine stared at Jace, his mouth set in a thin line. Eliza took the time to look him over. She had never seen him in the true battle wear of the Shadowhunters. He wore thick dark leather clothing and arm and leg braces made of electrum plates. There was a sword strap over his chest and she knew that Phaesphoros was on his back.

"Are you here to kill us?" Jace asked him.

Eliza couldn't help but laugh. The idea was absurd. Both of them turned to look at her. "We all know that's a ridiculous notion. I'm just the one who said it."

"He killed Brother Jeremiah, Eliza." Jace insisted. "Who's to say he won't kill us?"

She stood up, walking forward. She cut her eyes, staring at her father. "Now tell the truth, Father. Why did you kill Brother Jeremiah? I'll even go as far to ask as to why you killed all the Silent Brothers. I heard the screams. Those were screams of death."

Valentine spared a passing glance to the corpse of the Silent Brother at his feet. "You've always been smart, Eliza. I'm sure if you really think about it, you can use that brain and smart mouth of yours to tell us all why I'm here."

Her eyes scoured him, once again landing on the sword. Closer inspection led her to see that it wasn't his broadsword. Not Phaesphoros at all.

"The Soul-Sword. You _stole_ the Mortal Sword?" She hissed.

Jace let out a gasp.

Valentine took the sword from its sheath, presenting it before them. It was bigger than his own Phaesphoros, the blade thicker and wider. The hilt was shaped in the form of outspread wings. She wasn't sure how she had mistaken it for Phaesphoros, but lent the mistake to the darkness. "Maellartach." Valentine breathed.

"It belongs to the Silent Brothers. You can't take it." Jace told him.

Valentine let out a hearty laugh. "It belongs, my son, to the Nephilim. And Nephilim I am. And when I know that I can trust you and you I, Jonathan, I'll tell you exactly what I plan to do with it."

"You want to talk about trust? You abandoned me again, sneaking off into that portal and then smashing it! And you tried to kill Clary and Eliza."

Valentine shook his head. "Jonathan, I promise you, I would never hurt you sisters. Just as I would never hurt you."

"You've only ever hurt me!"

Valentine stood, a half-shocked expression on his face. "I am sorry you feel that way, my son. I am sorry for everything I've done. I'm sorry for not explaining to you why I have behaved the way I have."

Eliza slid back down the wall, propping her elbow in the corner to rest her head. "Oh, this should be good." She laughed. Her father glared down at her. "Please, continue. I can't wait to hear what you've come up with now."

"You don't need to explain." Jace told him. "What you've done needs no explanation. You killed our grandparents, took my mother hostage, and took up arms against other Shadowhunters and killed them. Any lies you have to tell, I don't want to hear."

Valentine drew closer to the cell, reaching through and placing his hand on Jace's shoulder. "Jonathan, I want to trust you. Please tell me that I can."

Noise came from above. Voices and footsteps. A response to the massacre.

 _Please, please catch him. Take him._

"They're much quicker than I anticipated." Valentine murmured. He drew back from the cell, concealing the light of the witchlight stone until there was once again, only darkness. "We aren't done yet, children. I promise you."

"Unchain us! Let us go." Jace begged.

She heard him click his tongue. "That would hardly be fair at this point in the evening." She heard him step away.

"Father, no. Please!"

"Don't worry, son." Valentine said through the darkness. "When you wish to find me, you will find me." He retreated quickly, his footsteps echoing in the darkness.

She heard Jace slump against the wall.

"He was never going to let us out of here." She told him. "Don't beat yourself up about it, thinking you did something wrong. He's messing with your head."

He didn't say anything in response.

* * *

The faintness of voices far away floated above her. _Rescue_.

Her eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, no longer bothering to strain to see. "Jace. There are people here. It could be a response to the attack."

He said nothing.

"Jace. They're going to come for us. It's not as if no one knows we're down here."

She heard footsteps coming down the stairs, coming towards them. Relief settled itself in her stomach, comforting and warm. The whitish glow from a witchlight stone came closer. Now illuminated was Brother Jeremiah's body in front of the cell. He was twisted in a way that only the dead were. The stitches that had once sewn his mouth shut were ripped, hanging from his lips in gory threads. Blood had formed a small puddle on the ground where it had dripped from his mouth.

She heard something rattling against the electrum bars that sealed the cell. She leaned forward, her ears prickled.

The sound that came next burned her ears. It was screeching metal, metal ripping out on itself, out of the stone. The door made into the bars fell into the cell floor, crashing down.

Light from the witchlight stone flooded into the cell.

"Clary?" She breathed.

Her younger sister stood in front of her, a stele in one hand and a witchlight in the other. Alec and Izzy stood behind her outside of the cell.

But Clary wasn't looking at her. She was looking at Jace.

Eliza's eyes slid over across the cell. Jace was slumped into his corner of the cell, his head lying against the wall. His manacle, now empty of his hand, lay beside him.

 _So that's what he's been doing_ , she thought.

His wrist had been made raw from the act of pulling it from the manacle. Blood trailed down his arm, bruising beginning to make itself known.

He was unconscious. "Well, now I know why he was ignoring me. He passed out." That hurt a little less, realization that he wasn't upset with her.

Clary looked over at her. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" She asked Eliza.

"I'm fine. I need out of these chains, though." She shook her manacle, only to realize it was already unlocked. It fell off her wrist, clattering to the ground. "Never mind, then. Help Jace."

Clary nodded. She placed the witchlight stone on the floor. Jace's eyes flew open as Clary brushed the hair back from his face.

His eyes darted from Clary to Eliza. "Am I dead?" He asked. "Be honest."

"Not even close." Clary told him.

She heard the cell door rattle with movement again. Alec walked into the cell. "Guys, we really should get out of here."

Alec stepped forward and bent down in front of Jace. He took out his stele and began placing runes on Jace's wrist.

Eliza rubbed the raw skin of her wrist gently. She stood up, rolling out her shoulders. "By the Angel, Imogen Herondale is going to get a piece of my damn mind." She hissed.

"I think that's what got us here in the first place. Your impertinence and arrogance." Jace snapped.

She rolled her eyes. The healing runes that Alec had placed on his wrist were already beginning to heal the damage done. Jace wobbled as he stood up, leaning against the wall.

"What happened here? I know that the Silent Brothers didn't turn on each other." Alec asked, sparing a tired glance to Brother Jeremiah.

"No. They didn't." Eliza whispered. She closed her eyes, an image of her father flashing. She opened them again, meeting Alec's eyes. "I don't know what it was exactly, but it was horrifying."

"It was with him. He could bring it back if he wanted." Jace said quietly. His face was sheet white. The remnants of fear mixed with too much damage to the body. Alec managed to grab him just as he began to fall.

"Okay, enough." Izzy decided. "It's time to go."

Clary grabbed her witchlight and got to her feet. Izzy knelt next to Brother Jeremiah's body and pulled his hood over to cover his face.

"It must have been something awful if the Silent Brothers were afraid of it." Alec said.

Eliza remarked that it definitely wasn't pleasant. She didn't want to say what she felt. Whatever that _thing_ had been, it was evil. Pure evil. Maybe worse than her father.

They found their way up the narrow corridor of stairs. The pavilion of the Speaking Stars greeted them. Covered in blood. It coated the walls and the floors. Bodies of the Silent Brothers were strewn haplessly around.

Eliza turned to Izzy. "Give me a seraph blade." She held out her hand. Izzy didn't object, simply handing her a seraph blade.

"This doesn't feel right." Jace mumbled.

"Because it isn't." She told him.

The group made their way out of the Bone City. Eliza's eyes sought out every shadow, praying to the Angel that none of the shadows turned out to be the monster.

They reached the stairs that led up from the city. All Eliza wanted to do was go back to Magnus' and sleep in a proper bed. All she wanted to do was see Declan and make sure he was alright. If Valentine was in the city again, Declan was in danger.

Light shone through to the stairs. There was no way it was light outside…? Time had passed, but surely not almost an entire day.

"The sun shouldn't be up." Izzy protested.

"It's witchlight." Jace stated.

That bright? Izzy bound quickly up the stairs, Clary taking off after her. Eliza sneaked a glance back at Alec, struggling to carry Jace along with himself. "Boys." She grumbled, going down a few stairs. She slid her arm around Jace's back and heaved one of his own over her shoulders.

The three of them finished up the flight of stairs. Izzy had stopped just at the top, Clary halted behind her.

"Go see what's going on." Alec told her.

She left them, pushing forward in front of the other two girls. "Oh, God."

The garden of the entrance to the Bone City was full of Shadowhunters. No more than thirty, no less than twenty. They all wore the proper hunting gear, and each held a witchlight stone.

Maryse Lightwood stood at the head of the group. Her cloak blew softly in the breeze. A man behind her spoke, stepping closer. "Maryse, there were already Shadowhunters in response to the attack."

Maryse set her lips into a fine line. "Malik, these are children. Some of them mine and the others…Morgenstern children."

Eliza passed the seraph blade back to Izzy. She didn't want to be seen as a potential threat. Not with the name Morgenstern hanging over her like the Sword of Damocles.

"What are you doing here?" Maryse asked, the question directed to her children.

Alec moved in front of Eliza, standing the closest to the group of grown Shadowhunters. "We answered the distress call that the Silent Brothers sent to the Institute. There was no one home so we came. We knew that Jace and Eliza were in the cells."

Maryse's face seemed to soften. "Alexander, none of you are required, let alone allowed, to answer such calls. You should have waited."

His face fell. "It doesn't matter. The Silent Brothers are dead. They're all dead."

Eliza watched the stoic energy of the crowd go numb. It was different, hearing that the Brothers were dead, instead of seeing them dead. Speaking it into existence was something else entirely. Words spoken couldn't be taken back.

"What do you mean that they're dead, Alexander?" Maryse asked. "They can't-."

Another Shadowhunter stepped forward. Eliza stiffened. The Inquisitor.

Imogen Herondale kept her eyes trained on Alec. "All of the Silent Brothers are dead? You found no one living?"

Alec shook his head. "No one that we saw, ma'am."

She nodded, turning back to Maryse. "Send some of your people down to the Silent City to check." Maryse immediately did what she was told.

The man she had called Malik led the group down the stairs, taking them down to the horror inside the Silent City. Once the Shadowhunters were gone, the garden was considerably empty.

The Inquisitor stood stock still. "This attack was not at random. This was planned. Whatever, whoever, did this came with the intention of having to kill the Silent Brothers to reach their goal. That's why we were called to Central Park to tend to that dead fey child."

A _what_? Another dead Downworlder?

"I hardly think that these two events are connected, Inquisitor. The dead fey child in the park was exsanguinated, just as the other Downworlders have been." Maryse argued.

Drained of blood. Just like the warlock, just like the werewolf was supposed to be.

"A ploy, Maryse." The Inquisitor insisted. "It was all part of his plan, to ensure that the Institute would be empty when the Brothers called for our assistance." Her voice was as sharp as her cheekbones, like razor wire.

He. Eliza knew immediately.

"Valentine stole the Mortal Sword from the Silent Brothers. After he slaughtered them." Jace spoke up.

The Inquisitor gave him a pleased, but cold smile. Alec insisted that Valentine couldn't have done that to the Silent Brothers. They had been mauled, ripped apart.

The monster, the _thing_ flashed in Eliza's head. It wasn't just a shadow, rippling through the darkness, not a figment of her overactive imagination.

"He had something with him." She said quietly. "A demon, I think. But not like anything I've ever seen before."

The Inquisitor actually agreed with her. "He has the Mortal Cup in his possession. He could have summoned anything to help him."

Eliza clenched her hands into fists. Whatever he had summoned, it was evil. Dark, from the deepest part of hell.

"We know for a fact it was him. He came down to the cells." Jace told the Inquisitor. "He told us what he'd done to the Brothers to get the Sword."

"Did he tell you anything else?" Maryse demanded. "What he planned to do with it? What he wanted the Mortal Instruments for?"

Eliza couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her. Everyone turned to look at her. Jace had an exasperated look on his face. "I'm sorry. I really shouldn't laugh, it's ill respect to the dead but to assume that Valentine said anything of important in front of me. He wouldn't make the mistake."

"And why is that?" The Inquisitor asked. "Does he like to play favorites with his children? Does he like Jonathan best?"

She had no idea. Jonathan, the real Jonathan, was everything he wanted in a child and more. "I'm not to be trusted. I've betrayed him once and I'm sure to do it again. I took up arms against him and threatened to shove the sword he gave me through his throat. I'm definitely not his favorite child." She took a deep breath, calming herself down. "Listen, all I'm saying is that my father would never say anything of importance in front of me. He knows better. He's smarter than that."

The Inquisitor drew closer to her, peering down into her eyes. "Somehow, I find it very hard to believe you."

Eliza shrugged it off. "Then don't. That can be your mistake."

Alec interjected. "Eliza wouldn't lie about something like this. She doesn't want him to succeed. Jace wouldn't lie either."

The Inquisitor was still glaring at Eliza as she addressed Alec. "Lay aside your blind devotion to these two friends, Alexander. Valentine Morgenstern doesn't have a paternal bone in his body. He didn't stop by the cells for a nice chat with his children."

"You're right." Eliza said. The Inquisitor's face lit up. "I'm sure all of his paternal bones burned in the fire he set when he murdered Michael Wayland and his son, and my grandparents."

The woman raised her hand, probably to smack her, but let it fall. Her face was hot with anger. "The convenience of this situation is not lost of me, Eliza Morgenstern. That your father would steal the Soul-Sword the night before you and your brother are to stand trial. To prevent you from telling us anything about him."

"I'll tell you whatever you want to know, free of charge." Eliza promised.

"Then why else would he take the Sword, if not to protect his children?" The Inquisitor demanded.

"It's powerful." Clary spoke. "It's a Mortal Instrument, just like the Cup. We all know how he feels about power." The Inquisitor said that the Sword had no immediate use, not like the Cup. It was only used for trials.

Eliza knew he wouldn't take it for wall decoration, not even to just say that he had stolen the Mortal Sword. He wanted it, needed it, for something.

She was going to find out what that was.

She didn't have the chance to expand more on her plan because Jace stumbled, falling to the ground. She made a natural little noise in her throat. "I'm fine. I'm fine." He insisted.

"No, you aren't." Clary told him.

Eliza knelt down and grabbed his wrist. She turned it up towards her. The _iratze_ Alec had etched hadn't disappeared. It was still as fresh as it had been when first placed. "The healing rune isn't working. What is wrong with you?"

It wasn't lost on her that whatever had attacked them in the cell was the cause of his injury. Whatever demon it had been.

"He's faking it." The Inquisitor waved it off. "He should still be down in those cells. As should you." She told Eliza.

Eliza dropped Jace's wrist tenderly and stood up. She walked over to the Inquisitor, staring her straight in the face. She had at first found the woman's steel grey eyes intimidating, but she no longer harbored that feeling. The Inquisitor was just Imogen Herondale, another Shadowhunter. "You weren't down there with us. You didn't see that _thing_ that came from the shadows, whatever helped Valentine slaughter the Silent Brothers. It has done something to my brother and I will be damned if you ignore that. Something is wrong with him." Her voice was dripping with anger, her words burning.

"Tread carefully little girl or you will be thrown back into those cells."

She wanted to bite her tongue, but she couldn't. The anger was too much. It was consuming her. Her hands shook, her jaw set tightly. "Then throw me back!" Her eyes were no longer green, instead a dark black. "Nothing you can do to me will be worse than the hell my father put me through."

"Liz." Jace's voice was faint, barely audible.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She opened them, glaring at the Inquisitor. "My brother needs help. You cannot deny medical help to a Shadowhunter."

The Inquisitor's eyes sparked. "Where do you expect me to send him? Your father has slaughtered the Silent Brothers."

Alec spoke before she did. "Magnus. We can send him to Magnus." The Inquisitor turned her attention to him, demanding to know who Magnus was. "Magnus Bane, the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He healed me after we fought Abbadon, the Greater Demon."

 _Magnus? I'm alright but Jace…something is wrong with him. The Silent Brothers are all dead._

 _If you can bring him, I will help him. Are you sure you're alright? I got word that you'd been thrown in the dungeons._ Even inside her head, Magnus' voice was coated in worry. _I've notified Declan of what has happened. He's beside himself, as he's told me. He's with me now._

Declan. He was alright. She breathed a sigh of relief. She told Magnus she would keep him updated.

"Magnus will help him. He's just told me. We can take him to Magnus' apartment in Brooklyn." Eliza said.

Alec stood up from Jace's side. "We don't have to. He's here. Magnus!"

Eliza whipped around to look at Magnus. "What?" Magnus was there? How did she not know Magnus was there? She should have felt it.

Magnus strolled through the entrance of the garden, looking fabulous as usual in black leather pants and a bright blue military style jacket styled over a lace shirt. Walking right next to him was Declan. Dapper as always in a dark grey tweed suit, his brown hair tousled.

Declan stopped as Magnus kept walking. He waited as Magnus walked right past Maryse and the Inquisitor, stopping in front of Eliza. He put his hands on her cheeks, gently inspecting her. "Well, you don't look hurt. How do you feel?" He asked.

She smiled softly. "I'm fine. I promise. Please take care of Jace. He's not right." Magnus glided past her to the spot on the grass where Jace was laying.

Declan didn't bother introducing himself to anyone in his usual fashion. He walked straight to Eliza, engulfing her in a tight hug. His hand was firm against the back of her head, holding her there. She patted lightly on his back and he pulled away. "I'm glad to see you're alright, Eliza. I've been beside myself with worry since Magnus told me."

"Vampire." The Inquisitor stated. "What business do you have here?"

Declan's face turned to a confused frown. He turned to the Inquisitor, wrapping his arm around Eliza's waist. "Goodness, my apologies. You must be Inquisitor Herondale. Declan Kensley, head of the London vampire clan. I'm courting Miss Morgenstern."

The Inquisitor looked at him with an astonished expression.

"Well, now that we're all caught up on Eliza's love life," Magnus' voice was tired, "fixing Jace up will cost a pretty penny."

Maryse said she would pay whatever she needed to. "Jonathan will need somewhere to stay. He cannot remain at the Institute, but he's still considered a flight risk." The Inquisitor said.

Eliza felt better, just having Declan beside her. He was there, right next to her, safe and sound. Valentine hadn't gotten to him.

"Jace can stay with Eliza and me. I have the room in my apartment." Magnus offered. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"Alexander," The Inquisitor started, her voice thick, "is your warlock aware of how important Jonathan Morgenstern is to the Clave at this time?"

His warlock? Eliza took offense. If anything, he was hers! Alec's cheeks turned a furious red. Magnus said that he understood. The Inquisitor agreed to let him house Jace and Eliza and to let her know when they would both be well enough to answer questions.

Eliza rested her head against Declan's chest. "I was worried about you." She whispered. "He's here. He's in the city again."

He stepped back, looking down at her. His caramel eyes were wide with concern. "Who, Eliza?"

"My father." She murmured. "Valentine is here."

She was going to find him and figure out exactly what he was doing.


	15. Chapter 15

She hung her coat up on the rack, deftly raking her hands through her windblown hair. She put the bag of takeout on the kitchen table. She peered into the den. Jace was lying on the hot pink couch haphazardly, eyes glued to the television. The velvet drapes were tightly drawn, letting no light into the dark room.

"I brought food from Taki's. Got your favorite." She called to him. He didn't stir. "I went to the hospital to see our mother. Still no change." Nothing. "Alec is coming over. So are Clary and Simon. I've just gotten off the phone with her. They should be here soon."

"Why?" He asked, voice unbothered.

She rolled her eyes, but managed not to say anything too snarky. "To check on you. Try to be civil while they're here, especially to Simon. I think he and Clary are starting to become a thing." He made some sort of grunting noise.

She dumped his food onto a plate and tossed a fork on it. She walked over to the couch, offering him the plate. He took it begrudgingly. "Thanks." He mumbled. "Why isn't everyone dawdling all over you? You were down there too."

She went back to the kitchen, putting her own food on a plate. "Maybe because I didn't faint after we got out." She replied smoothly. She went to the couch, nudging his legs with her knee. He sat up and she took the space that his legs had occupied. "Seriously, Jace, what happened to you down there?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, Liz." He said. "Can I ask you a question?" She nodded, tucking her legs under her. "Why aren't you afraid of him? Back at Renwick's, you were so brave. And in the cells, I know you were scared, but when he came down there, you acted like nothing was wrong."

She leaned forward, putting her plate on the coffee table. "I spent seventeen years being afraid of him. Then, he sent me here. I met you." She said, glancing over at him. He was already looking at her, golden eyes soft. "And Alec and Izzy and Clary. You guys showed me that there was more out in the world. Being here with you guys, the people I care about most in the world, gave me things I didn't know I could ever have. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I have a lot of reasons to be brave now."

The door to the apartment opened. Eliza looked back. Alec walked in with Clary and Simon in tow.

"Alec, I didn't know you had a key." Eliza observed.

His face tinged pink, but he shrugged it off. "Yeah. Magnus gave me once since both of you are staying here now."

She hid her smirk, turning back to get her plate. "Nice of him. There's food on the counter. I got stuff for everyone."

"Sweet. Thanks.' Simon said cheerily.

Magnus came into the room, his tall body covered by a green silk dressing gown. He had paired the gown with black jeans and a silver shirt. "Hello everyone. Little dove, you got what I asked for?"

She got up and went into the kitchen. She opened the second brown bag and took out a heavy package. "Seabass. Lots of it." She handed him the package. She pulled a second out of the bag. "And two pounds of faerie plums. On the house. Kaelie was feeling generous."

Magnus beamed, placing the seabass on the counter. He opened the package of faerie plums and popped two in his mouth. "Shame Declan isn't on call during the daylight hours. I do love when he pays for dinner."

"Stop using my boyfriend to pay for your meals."

"Boyfriend?" Jace sounded like he was choking on his food. After a few coughs, he tossed his plate on the table. "So, you guys are official now?"

She felt her face go warm. "Uh, yeah. Guess we are. He's coming over later." She told him. She looked at his plate, still half-filled with food. "Finish your food." She scolded.

He snatched his plate back up, a scornful look on his face. He turned his attention back to the television. Some fashion advice show was playing, something he had been watching nonstop.

Magnus glided into the den, throwing open the drapes. The room flooded with light and she swore she heard Jace hiss.

"We have to talk." Clary told them. Eliza made three plates of food, handing one each to Clary, Alec, and Simon. "We need to make a plan for what to do next. We have to be prepared." It seemed like every day, Clary was becoming more and more like a true Shadowhunter.

"I planned on watching _Project Runway_." Jace replied coolly. "It's actually interesting."

Eliza shared an exasperated look with Magnus. He snapped his fingers and the television flipped off. "You're going to deal with this." Magnus told him. "I'm not going to let you sleep on my couch and binge watch on my television forever. Plus, you cleaning all the time confuses me. I don't know where any of my stuff is."

Jace rolled his eyes. He got up from the couch and put his plate in the kitchen sink. As he walked past her, Eliza stiffened at the dark bags under his eyes. She didn't know the last time he had actually slept. She heard him tossing and turning on the couch at night, resorting to pacing around the den once sleep became impossible.

"We need a round table if we're going to have a round table meeting." He muttered darkly.

Magnus said that was a lovely idea. He travelled to the living room and snapped his fingers again. A large round table appeared, accompanied with six black high-backed chairs.

Clary slid into a chair, running her hands along the surface of the table. "Jace, I told you that magic was real." She goaded. "Magnus just created something out of nothing."

Magnus chuckled, saying no, he didn't. "That's impossible, Clarissa. The table and chairs came from a cute little place on Fifth Avenue." Another snap of his fingers and six coffee cups appeared on the table. "Those are from a delicious café on Broadway."

Everyone took their seats at the table. Simon sat down next to Clary, Eliza on her other side. Magnus took the seat next to Eliza and Alec sat next to him. Leaving the only empty seat between Alec and Simon. Jace took it, a sour look on his face.

"You guys said that what happened down in the Silent City was because of Valentine?" Clary asked Eliza. "What does that mean?"

Alec asked Jace what happened. He lifted his eyes from his coffee, looking at Eliza. He blinked slowly, biting on his upper lip.

"We were in the cell." Eliza spoke. Jace averted his gaze back to his coffee. "There were these noises. They were awful and I could feel it in my bones, something was wrong. When Brother Jeremiah came down to the cell, I knew it was the Silent Brothers who were making all those agonizing wails. It wasn't long before our father came. He had Maellartach, the Mortal Sword. He had something else, a demon." Goosebumps covered her skin. She gripped her coffee cup tightly, rolling her shoulders.

Magnus reached, putting a hand on her shoulder. He gave her a soft nod. She responded with a small smile.

"Anyways, back to the more important things." She cleared her throat. "He had come for the sword, he told us that. He killed the Silent Brothers to get it. I don't know what he wanted, he wouldn't say, not with me there."

Magnus removed his hand. He went to the counter, picking up the container of faerie plums. He popped the top and sat back down. He plucked out a plum, popping it into his mouth. "Hold on. Alexander, when the Silent Brothers called for help, where was the Conclave? Why was it you who had to respond?"

Eliza looked at Alec. His cheeks were a cool pink color. His eyes flitted around the table before settling on Magnus. "There was another Downworlder murder, in Central Park. It was a fey child, drained of blood."

 _Just like the werewolf cub_ , she thought.

 _What is your brain churning around, little dove?_ Magnus was staring at her, eyes bright with curiosity.

 _They're connected._ She responded. _I don't know how, but they are. Something big is happening, Magnus, and my father has something to do with it._

"Can you two tell us what's going on or are you just going to keep staring at each other?" Jace's voice snapped her out of her head.

She blinked rapidly, licking her lips. "Sorry." She said quietly. "We were just…There's a connection between the murder of the fey child and the werewolf cub. They were both exsanguinated and they're both Downworlder children."

Magnus got up suddenly. His green robe floated behind him as he walked over to the window. He pulled the drape back just enough to look down on the street below. "You're right, little dove. There is something very big happening." He said. "Two nights ago, I had a dream about a city of death. Rivers of blood ran through the streets and the builders were constructed of bone."

Simon coughed quietly, scratching his neck. "Magnus?" Alec's voice was soft, caring even.

"This isn't random." Magnus spoke quietly. The glow of the sunset fell across his face, painting it a soft orange. "Just before the werewolf cub, there was another murder at the beginning of the week. A warlock down by South Street Seaport. Like the others, drained of blood."

"Vampires?" Simon asked. His face had paled.

Magnus said no. "Raphael has been insistent that the Night Children are in no way involved with this." Jace told Simon. Simon snorted, saying he didn't trust Raphael as far as he could throw him, which definitely wasn't far at all.

"I believe he is telling the truth." Magnus sighed. He let the drape slip to a close. When he came back to sit at the table, he had a large green book in his hands. He put it on the table, opening it up. "Little dove, I believe you. I think that Valentine is behind these murders."

She forced back a proud smile. "Why?" Surely, it wasn't just because her father hated Downworlders so much he had once tried to eradicate their entire existence.

"You say he had a demon with him in the Silent City?" He asked. Both she and Jace said yes. "When I went to examine the scenes of the murders, both locations were heavy with demonic presence."

Clary spoke of her agreement. "The Inquisitor did think that the faerie murder was a diversion from what happened in the Silent City."

Jace shook his head. "He had a bigger reason than that, if he did it. He wouldn't anger the Fair Folk if he didn't have a good reason for it. They aren't the best people to make mean with."

Magnus said he knew, Valentine had a reason. "He needed his blood. Specifically, blood from Downworlders." He continued flipping through the book. The words lit up his face. He let out a sigh as he found the page he wanted. Alec leaned over, glancing at the page. He had a confused look on his face. "It's in Purgatic." Magnus told him.

Eliza looked at the pages in front of Magnus. On the left page was an illustration of a silver sword. "Maellartach." She murmured. Not many Shadowhunters got to see the Soul Sword in person, only in drawings or words. She had, though, not in the most wonderful of circumstances. "Magnus," she said, looking over at him, "what is he doing? Why does Valentine need Downworlder blood?"

He gave her a disgusted, yet sympathetic look. She drew back from him, seeing his thoughts. Her lip curled in a snarl. "The Ritual of Infernal Conversion." He spoke aloud, for everyone else to hear.

Clary asked what that meant. Magnus snapped the book shut. Eliza scratched behind her ear. "Our seraph blades are pledged to Angel's, they're seraphic, why we call them seraph blades. Like them, the Mortal Sword is seraphic, but it's pledged to our Angel Raziel, which makes it a thousand-fold more powerful than any seraph blade. Our fa-, Valentine wants to change that." She explained to Clary. "He wants to convert it, make it demonic instead of seraphic."

Clary frowned, glancing to Magnus. "Can he even do that? Like, for real?"

Magnus nodded solemnly. "Unfortunately." He said. "If Valentine is successful and converts the Angel's Sword, it will be just as powerful, but it could provide him with much more. He would have power over demons, all of them. He could force them to do his bidding. With that and the Mortal Cup…He would be more dangerous and more powerful than any other Shadowhunter."

Eliza swallowed. She didn't like the feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. The thoughts in Magnus' head were making it much worse. She felt like throwing up. "Valentine could create a demonic army and possibly even march them on Idris."

Simon laughed, gaining the attention of everyone else. Alec was staring at him with a bewildered look on his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't laugh." His laughter faded away as he spoke. "Wouldn't he be stupid to bring a bunch of demons to the city where all the demon hunters live?"

Jace frowned at him, saying no. "Because demons come from other dimensions, we don't know how many there are. If they all came through at one time, Idris could be overwhelmed. They could kill us all."

"Great."

Eliza stood up. She took a deep breath, glancing over at the clock and then out the window. The sun had set. Declan would be there soon.

"What's the connection between the ritual and the Downworlders?" Alec asked Magnus.

Magnus leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "If Valentine is going to convert the Soul Sword's allegiance, he has to seethe the sword until it becomes red hot, then he must cool the sword four separate times. One time for the blood of four different Downworlders. A child of Lilith, a child of the moon, a child of the night, and the child of the fey."

She was sure she was going to throw up. There had only been three murders. Which meant a fourth was sure to come. "Excuse me." She muttered. She darted to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. She fell to her knees, lurching over the toilet, and throwing up her dinner.

Three times to be exact.

She stood up and wiped her mouth with the hand towel. She rinsed her mouth out with mouthwash. After splashing water on her face, she went back to the kitchen.

Sitting in her chair was Declan. His hands were clasped together on the table. He was listening intently as Magnus caught him up on what was going on.

"Oh, you're here." She tried to sound happy about it. He turned, gracing her with one of his beautiful smiles.

"Are you all right? You were throwing up." His eyes searched her face.

She nodded, resting her hands on the table. "Just a little overwhelmed. It's fine." She said quietly.

"I was telling them that Valentine has two more killings." Magnus told her. "He didn't get all the blood he needed from the werewolf cub. I have no doubt that Valentine already has the ability to call demons from the sword." Jace said there would be reports about it if that were true. Even the Inquisitor had said it was quiet, maybe too quiet. "That's correct." Magnus said. Even Eliza was surprised to hear him agree with Jace. "But, I don't believe he is calling all the demons to him he can. He's smart."

Just before anyone could question it, a high-pitched noise split through the air. Clary flinched, knocking her coffee over. Alec pulled a phone out of his pocket. "Give me a minute. It's my mom." He got up from the table, walking to the window.

Simon took Clary's hand, inspecting it for any serious burn injuries. Eliza looked at Declan. "I don't think we should go out tonight." She whispered to him. "Not with everything that's going on."

He nodded thoughtfully. "We can stay here. I think a night in will do you some good. You spend too many nights out being a kick-ass demon slayer."

Kick-ass demon slayer? Her lips spread into a smile. "You've been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, haven't you?" She laughed. He chuckled out a yes.

Jace slid his stele across the table to Clary. "You know how to fix it." He told her. She said no, shaking her head. Jace insisted.

"Stop trying to force her. She doesn't want to do it." Simon mocked him. "Ha-ha-ha."

Jace stared back at him, mouth agape. "That's the comeback you're going with? Okay then…"

Alec came back to the table, sitting down. He pushed a stray piece of hair out of his face. "I told my mom about the ritual and Valentine's plan. She said that she would talk to the Conclave about it." Again, his phone rang. He heaved a groan, standing up. "It's Izzy. Hold on." Alec wandered back over to the window, answering the call.

"The guy who found the cub's body said he saw someone in the alley with him and then he ran off. It was probably Valentine." Jace told Magnus.

Magnus agreed. "He'll try again with another werewolf child soon. Within the next couple days." He looked at Clary. "You should warn Luke."

Clary was beginning to get up when Alec came back, ushering her to sit back down. He wore an unusual expression. "Isabelle wanted to let us know that the Seelie Queen has requested an audience with us."

Magnus snickered. "I'm sure Madonna is going to call me any moment to dance with her on her next tour."

Alec cocked his head to the side and asked who Madonna was. Clary asked who the Seelie Queen was.

"The local Queen of the Fey." Eliza deadpanned.

"Tell Isabelle to tell the Queen we say no." Jace ordered Alec. Alec said that Isabelle thought it was a good idea. "Tell her to say no three times." Jace rephrased.

Alec looked to Eliza for help. If anyone could sway Jace, it would be her. She gave Alec a tired look. "Alec, Izzy doesn't always have the _best_ ideas. Sometimes, when she thinks something is a good idea, it turns out to be the worst idea."

Jace said yes immediately. "Remember when she said that it was a good idea to use those abandoned subway tunnels?" Alec mumbled a yes. "Alec, the rats were big enough to eat us alive."

Simon asked if they could avoid any talk about rats of any size.

"Jace, this is different than the subway tunnels. Izzy wants us to go to the Seelie Court." Jace said it was different, it was probably her worst idea ever. "Jace." Alec groaned. "Isabelle knows a knight in the Court who told her that the Queen wants to meet with us. She thinks if we explain our theory to the Queen, that the Fair Folk might side with us. Maybe even be an ally against Valentine…"

Clary asked if it was safe to meet with the Seelie Queen. Jace looked at her like no one had ever said something so stupid before. Before he could snap at her, Eliza interjected. "Probably not." She said. "The Fair Folk aren't prone to helping humans. It may not end well."

"It wouldn't be wise to ignore the Seelie Queen, though." Alec countered. "If they were on our side, the Clave would have to listen to our theory about Valentine and the Mortal Sword."

Declan put a hand on Eliza's elbow. "What do you think?" He whispered to her.

Simon said that the fey couldn't be worse than the vampires. They had handled the vampires pretty well.

Jace scoffed at him. "Pretty well?" He barked out a laugh. "We survived, even though Eliza almost got her throat ripped out by that vampire piece of shit." He shot Declan a glaring look.

Eliza put a hand to the scar on her throat. It was cool to the touch, bumpy and jagged where Raphael's teeth had ripped the skin. "Faeries aren't like vampires, Simon." Eliza let her hand fall back at her side. "Vampires are made from disease, faeries are bred from demons and angels. They have the cruelty of demons, but the beauty of angels. Vampires and werewolves, they used to be human once. Faeries, they aren't like any of us sitting here. They live for centuries and they're vile and cunning." Her fingers tapped against the table. Her brain kept shooting back to Kaelie, wondering if the waitress really had fey blood in her. "The fey may not be able to lie, but they aren't going to tell the whole truth. They know how to get what they want. They're more harmful than helpful."

Simon swallowed, face a sickly green color. She felt bad for him, roped into all of the business of the Shadow World because he was in love with a girl.

 _Love_ , she thought, _what a dangerous thing._ Her father had told Jace once that to love something was to destroy it. Her father was wrong about a lot of things, but she was scared that he was right about that.

"It doesn't matter how helpful they are." Jace sighed. "We aren't going."

Simon rolled his eyes. "I don't think it matters what you think. You can't go with us. You can't even leave this apartment."

Jace jolted to his feet. He had moved so fast that he knocked over his chair in the action. "There is no way in hell that you're taking Eliza to-." He stopped himself, seeming to choke on the words. His face was dark with anger, the veins in his neck thick. He was staring down Alec, his eyes molten gold. "You aren't taking my sisters to the Seelie Court without me. Not happening."

She felt Declan's eyes on her. She looked at the wall and then down at the table. Anywhere but at Jace or Declan. Finally, she settled her eyes on Alec, practically begging him to say something.

Alec stood up. He put a hesitant hand on Jace's shoulder. After a few moments, Jace seemed to calm down. "I've got it, Jace. I promise." His voice sounded slightly strained. Jace gave him a look. "We're going. You know that Isabelle has probably already said we're coming."

"Don't make me tackle you." Jace warned.

She had had enough. Jace was acting like an impertinent child. Eliza slammed her hands down on the table. They both looked at her. "Enough." She hissed. "We're going to the Seelie Court and the Queen will have her audience with us."

Magnus cleared his throat, warranting her attention. "I may have a solution so that Jace can accompany you."

Eliza felt a lump form in her throat. Jace couldn't. He had a direct order from the Clave not to leave Magnus' apartment. She didn't want to imagine what would happen if that order was disobeyed.

"There is a little loophole in the contract I made with the Inquisitor. So long as another Shadowhunter takes your place, you may leave for a short while." Magnus shot Alec an amused look.

Alec blanched, fixing the collar of his shirt. "Me?"

Magnus nodded. Jace's eyes travelled between the two of them. Eliza wondered just how thick in the head he was. Eliza couldn't believe what the hell was happening. "Jace." She tested. "I think Alec's trying to do us a favor. I'm sure the Seelie Queen wants to see you there more than Alec. She isn't asking for just random Shadowhunters. She's asking for Valentine's children. One of which you happen to be."

 _You're welcome,_ she shot Magnus a glowering glare.

 _I'll tell Alexander,_ he mused.

"Plus," Alec began, "you're the most charming person I know, and the Fair Folk are prone to charm." Jace picked his chair back up begrudgingly. He sat down in it. "Izzy said she'd be waiting by Turtle Pond. She knows how to get into the Court."

Magnus stood up. He told Jace not to get himself killed. He didn't want to have to explain that to the Clave, especially not to the Inquisitor.

Jace muttered a comment to himself, Eliza heard something about Magnus having to explain something either way.

Declan stood up and Eliza led him to the kitchen. She grabbed his hands. "I'm sorry. We were supposed to stay in and have a relaxing evening." She apologized. Nothing sounded better than staying in and spending the night on the couch with him, watching reruns of useless shows.

He gave her a kind smile, letting go of her hands and putting his hands on her cheeks. "Sweet one, don't apologize for doing what you're supposed to." He chastised her. "You are a Shadowhunter, this is part of bearing that weight. Even more so, you must get the allegiance of the Seelie Queen if you want any hope of defeating your father, should what you say be true." He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. "Be safe, my love."

His _what_?

She clamped her mouth shut before she could say anything ruinous. "I will." She promised. "Even though I hate him, warn Raphael about the killings. Make sure the vampires know to be careful. Valentine can't finish this." She kissed his cheek. "We probably won't be back before sunrise. You should go back to the Dumont just to be safe."

With another kiss to the temple, he left the apartment. Jace was standing just a few feet away, a cold look on his face. It morphed, an amused expression taking its place. " _My love?_ " He laughed. "He treats you like a doll."

"He's a gentleman, Jace. Not that _you'd_ know anything about that." She sneered. "Let me change and we'll go." She muttered, shoving past him.

When had he gotten so insufferable?

* * *

Turtle Pond looked like a scene from a movie. Plants sprouted around the edge of the pond, brightly colored flowers and weeds entangled together. Moss fell into the water in fingerlike tendrils.

Ducks sat in the pond, some swimming, some flapping around, others asleep. The moon reflected in the water, a silvery half circle.

The only person occupying the gazebo out on the water was Isabelle. Her head was turning every few seconds, taking in the scenery. When her eyes finally landed on the group, she sprang to her feet.

Eliza swore that her feet barely touched the ground as Izzy made her way to them. She engulfed Jace in a bone-crushing hug. "You're out! How are you out?" She asked, a puzzled expression on her face as she pulled away from him.

A breeze blew past, billowing out Izzy's long black dress. The skirt of her dress had blown, but her stiff dark green velvet coat remained still. Eliza wondered why she always dressed so…impractically? Dresses and tight skirts weren't exactly the best attire to fight demons in. But, for Izzy, it got the job done.

It wasn't that Eliza hated Izzy's choice in clothing. For most things, it worked. It increased her allure when hunting demons that preyed on attractive young women and everything she wore was just so… _Isabelle_.

Eliza had tried it a few times. The long flowing dresses definitely weren't her style, but sometimes, the skirts proved to be useful.

For an audience with the Seelie Queen, she figured that typical Shadowhunter gear wasn't exactly appropriate. The Fair Folk were big about appearances. Instead of jeans and a shirt, she had opted for a soft pink dress that fell to her mid-thigh. For practical purposes, she had paired the dress with combat boots.

Of course, she still had her braces on her wrist that secured her throwing knives. And there was a holster on her thigh, hidden by the dress, that had her seraph blades. Not forgetting the sword strap across her back that held her short-sword.

"Not for good." Eliza told her. "We traded Alec for the time being."

Izzy's mouth twitched. "For how long?"

Jace told her it was only for a few hours. "Though, not quite sure what'll happen if I don't come back."

Eliza smacked his arm. "Don't talk like that." She hissed at him.

Izzy said that their parents wouldn't be happy if they found out. Simon said they definitely wouldn't be happy that they traded Jace for Alec to a wizard who reminded him of a homosexual version of Sonic the Hedgehog.

Jace shot Simon a withering look, asking why Simon was even there. Especially considering that the Fair Folk hated mundanes. "You know, for someone who you think is useless, I did save all your lives last week." Simon snapped at him.

Jace began to say something but Izzy cut him off. "Simon, it's only that the Seelie Court is really dangerous, especially for mundanes." She warned him. "It's not a kind of danger you can fight your way out of."

Clary put a hand on his upper arm, whispering that he didn't have to go with them. She didn't want him to get hurt. Simon puffed out his chest a little bit and told her that he was going.

Eliza sighed heavily. "Okay, great. Simon's going with us. Can we go now?" The wind blew. Leaves fell down from the trees and across their feet. She tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear, but it didn't stay. The fallback of cutting her hair off was that it wouldn't stay out of her face.

"Guys. The door is about to open." Izzy called out. The breeze whistled through the trees as Clary asked where the door was. "Just follow me." Izzy grinned. She walked to the edge of the pond, her shoes making squishing noises in the mud. She hoisted her dress, so it didn't get dirty from the mud. Marks shined against her pale skin.

Simon put himself in front of Clary, following directly behind Isabelle. He slipped, falling backwards a little. "Damn it." He mumbled. Jace reached out, grabbing Simon's arm and steadying him.

"I'm going to need everyone to like each other in the Seelie Court. Or they'll kill us all." Izzy said sharply. She lightly tapped her foot against the surface of the water. "Clary, I'm really going to need you to start using your feminine superiority to reign those two in." She waved her hand between Jace and Simon. Izzy cast a glance to Eliza. "Just look at Liz. She knows how to make men do what she wants."

Everyone turned to look at her. She shrugged, not bothering to disagree with Isabelle. "Have you seen her?" Clary flailed her hand towards Eliza. "She's scary, of course men do what she wants! If they don't, she kills them."

Eliza shrugged again. Clary wasn't technically wrong. But, she wasn't completely right. Eliza knew how to use her femininity to get what she wanted. Izzy gave her a pleased look.

"Okay, since we're finished discussing my many ways of manipulating the simple folk that are the male population," Eliza said, "let's lay down some ground rules for when we're underground." Simon squeaked out, asking when it was said they were going underground. Eliza didn't bother answering his question. "We all have to get along, like Izzy said. Also, do _not_ eat or drink anything they offer you." She gave Simon a pointed look. His cheeks turned pink.

"Great." Izzy clapped her hands together. "Let's go." She treaded into the pond. Her coat floated on top of the water. Simon was behind her, Clary beside him. Behind them, Jace and Eliza stood next to each other.

"Simple folk, huh?" Jace mumbled to her.

She repressed a smile. "Not my fault that men don't possess the ability to withstand my charm."

"Declan too, then?"

She stopped, the water swishing against the hem of her dress. It was cold against the bare skin of her legs and she gritted her teeth. She looked over at him, green eyes narrowed. "What the hell is your problem, Jace?" She snarled. "Declan hasn't done anything to you. Actually, he has been nothing but extremely nice to you."

He said nothing in response, continuing further into the pond. She huffed, following after him. He was really starting to work her nerves.

Izzy had reached the center of the pond, stopping abruptly. The water was up to her rib cage. "This is the spot." She announced. "Jace, you first, then Eliza."

Jace moved to stand beside Izzy. He turned around, looking directly at Eliza. A small smirk graced his mouth as he took a step backwards. And then he was gone.

Izzy called out Eliza's name. Clary gave her an uneasy look. Eliza put a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. "Don't worry." She murmured, walking past her. She went to stand directly in the moon's reflection. The water there was colder than the rest of the pond. Whether it was the water itself or the gateway to the Seelie Court, she didn't know.

It was like she lost her footing. She tumbled, her hands outstretched to grab something, to regain balance. And then she fell back.


	16. Chapter 16

Her feet landed on the ground and she wobbled, regaining her balance. Her hair was wet, stuck to her face. She pushed the strands out of her face, tucking them behind her ears. She looked down, her clothes sopping wet. She was extremely glad that she had opted for the lightweight dress instead of jeans.

She quickly took off her shoes and shook the water out of them. She slipped them back on, shaking out the excess water in her hair.

"Izzy probably could have warned us that this way was going to be wet." Jace's voice startled her.

He was standing in front of her, arms crossed over his chest. Like her, he was drenched, but it didn't seem to be bothering him.

The little dirt corridor they were in wasn't exactly what she had expected from the Fair Folk. Moss covered the walls, glowing faintly to provide light. Just down the corridor was a curtain of vines.

She shivered, hugging her arms around herself. It was just as cold there as it had been in the water. "Do you want my jacket?" Jace asked, his voice a little kinder than it had been.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. "Your jacket is wet." She retorted.

He said something under his breath that she didn't quite catch. He swiped his hair off his forehead. His white shirt was clinging to his skin, the black ink of his Marks seeming to burn through the material.

Clary dropped through the portal, landing ungraciously on her feet. Jace reached out and steadied her. "I didn't think we'd be travelling via pond portal." She admitted. "Izzy could've given us a warning or something."

Eliza laughed, agreeing with her. "Or at least told us to bring a change of clothes." She replied.

Something fell from the top of the corridor and landed against the ground with a definitive thud. Eliza looked down to see Simon lying on the dirt. His glasses had fallen to his feet. Clary reached down and plucked his glasses from the dirt, cleaning them off on her wet shirt. She helped him up and handed him his glasses.

"Thank you." Simon said in a quiet voice.

Isabelle finally dropped through the portal, spectacularly landing on her feet. She wore a beautiful grin on her face, staring back at all of them. She pushed her dark hair off her shoulders and straightened out her clothes. "How fun was that?"

Jace lifted his eyes, shaking his head. Eliza rung the excess water from her hair. "I'm getting you a dictionary for Christmas." Jace told Izzy. "You clearly don't know the meaning of the word fun."

"Especially after the whole ordeal with the dragon demons the other day." Eliza backed him up. "Okay, since you're the expert on the fey, which way do we go?"

Izzy leaned against one of the walls. She ran her fingers through her hair. "We wait. They come for us. It's all very formal." Clary asked how they knew they were there. "They'll know. Trust me." She assured her.

"So, how do you know so much about faeries?" Simon asked, his voice just a little too accusatory.

Izzy blushed, looking away from them. Eliza looked at Jace and was relieved to see that he had the same expression on his face as she did. Before either of them could ask Izzy about it, a faerie stepped through vine curtain.

Eliza didn't have too much experience with the Fair Folk. She knew they were dangerously beautiful and too cruel for anyone's own good. This was seemed to be no different. His hair was long, down to his shoulders, so black it looked almost blue. Something shimmered on his cheekbone and Eliza realized it was a leaf-shaped mark.

As he moved closer to them, she saw that his eyes were green. Brighter than that of her and Clary's eyes, green like the color of the vines he had just stepped through.

Isabelle moved quickly, pushing off the wall and running towards the man. She jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. "Meliorn!" She squealed.

Eliza couldn't help but smile. So, _that_ was how Izzy knew so much about the Fair Folk. She wondered if little Max would share the same affinity for Downworlders as his older siblings when he got a bit older.

Simon whispered something excitedly to Clary. Sternly, the faerie detached Izzy from his person and set her side. "Now is not the time for sentiment. The Queen has asked for an audience with the four Nephilim children." He spared Simon a disapproving look. "You know that mundanes are not permitted entrance into the Court."

Jace had a proud look on his face. "Someone could have mentioned that earlier." Simon bemused. "Am I just supposed to wait here until I mold into the wall and grow vines on my face?"

Eliza saw the look of amusement pass on Meliorn's face. "We could arrange that, if you wish." He told Simon.

Simon's mouth opened. "Don't answer that!" Eliza warned him.

"Simon is a friend. He can be trusted. I promise." Jace spoke. His words shocked all of them. "He fights by our side regularly." Simon, mouth open with shock, stared back at Jace. His eyes were wide.

"Once. Maybe twice, if we count when I got turned into a rat." Simon adjusted.

Clary grabbed Simon's hand, staring sternly at Meliorn. Her mouth was set in a firm line, eyes dark. "We don't go without him. If your Queen wants to see us, Simon comes with."

Eliza raised her eyebrows. Clary definitely had spunk. "Of course." Meliorn relented. "It cannot be said that the Seelie Court disrespects the wishes of our guests." His eyes moved between the group of them. "You may follow me." He turned, his boots lifting dust from the ground. He began walking down the corridor, not bothering to check if they were following.

Izzy moved quickly to be able to walk next to Meliorn. As she walked, she waved her hand behind her back, signaling for them to follow quickly.

Jace and Eliza shared another look. "Are you surprised, really?" Jace whispered. Quietly, she told him no.

"Are we-can we date faeries? Like, would the Lightwoods be okay with the two of them going out?" Clary walked close to Eliza, her voice low so Izzy wouldn't hear.

Jace shrugged. "I doubt they go out, Clary. I think they just stay under, or in. Whatever." He told her.

That didn't sound very warm of him. Simon even noted it. Out loud. "Sounds like you don't approve."

The corridor shifted into one that was lined with smooth stones instead of just dirt. Stone even made up the floor, shining as they walked.

"Not exactly." Jace replied. "I just don't want Izzy to get hurt. The fey aren't exactly known for ending their dalliances on a high note."

Just then, Izzy laughed. Her laughter echoed through the corridor. "You're so funny, Meliorn." She giggled. She lurched forward, the thin heel of her boot snagging in between two stones. Meliorn's arm jerked out, his hand wrapping around her bicep and keeping her from falling. He helped her stand upright.

"Your shoes are too tall." He told her, continuing to walk.

Izzy looked back at him with a dazzling expression. "What kind of girl would I be if I didn't stick to my motto? 'Nothing less than seven inches', that's what I always say." Meliorn turned to stare at her. His eyebrows were knitted together. "My shoes, Meliorn."

He continued down the corridor without her, mentioning that the Queen was waiting for them. Izzy waited with a pout on her lips as the others caught up to her. She turned to Eliza, a sad look in her eyes. "I forgot that the Fair Folk don't have a sense of humor."

Jace slipped his arm around her shoulders. "Debatable." He said. "There's this sweet nightclub downtown that I'm pretty sure is completely pixie and it's called Hot Wings." Izzy, Clary, and Eliza all shot him disturbed looks. "I've never been. I've just heard of it." He pulled away from Izzy, casting his eyes to the floor.

The corridor opened into a spacious room. The floor was made of a light-colored dirt, the walls lined with stone pillars covered in thin vines and brightly colored flowers. The room was bright, though there was no visible source of lighting.

It was full of Fair Folk. Some were playing a sweet melody, others were dancing along to the rhythm of the music. They seemed to float, feet never gracing the stone floor.

Wings, so many wings. Soft colors of lilac, blush, periwinkle. Eliza shuddered. Beautiful, but dangerous. Not so, she understood, unlike herself.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Clary stepping forward, moving towards the dancers. Both she and Jace grabbed Clary by the wrists. "Don't." Jace whispered softly.

"I wouldn't." Eliza warned her. "If you dance, it will be until you die." Clary looked between them, blinking slowly. Her eyes were slightly glazed, as if she had been deep in a dream. Jace took out his stele and traced a Mark onto Clary's arm. He pointed at the dancers, urging her to look again. Her face shifted as she looked back at the dancers. Her face paled. "Not everything beautiful is what it seems." Eliza murmured in Clary's ear.

Ahead of them, Isabelle and Simon were standing together, Izzy with a firm grasp on Simon's arm. They continued to cross the room, moving through a blue silk curtain to another corridor.

Izzy and Simon stopped. He was fiddling with the scarf tied around his eyes. Izzy must have used it to cover his eyes in the music room so he wouldn't be tempted. Clary stepped forward and untied the scarf, handing it back to Izzy.

"I didn't care much for the music." Simon said glumly. "Little too country-rock and roll mix for me."

Meliorn seemed offended by Simon's opinion. "You didn't care for our music?"

Clary interjected before Simon could really offend the faerie. "I think I liked it a little too much. Was that like, your version of a test? Or a joke?" She asked.

He observed her carefully, looking her up and down. His mouth was drawn and his eyebrows making a deep v shape. "The Nephilim are not so usually drawn to our glamours. Are you not protected?"

Eliza couldn't help but glare at him. "Trust me. My sister is protected." Her voice was as icy as the water in Turtle Pond had been. There was a glint in Meliorn's eyes, but he said nothing as he turned and continued to walk.

Eliza's nostrils flared as they started walking again. Simon said something quietly to Clary and Eliza only heard a muttered response. Izzy joined them, talking to them about something intimate that Eliza didn't particularly care to hear.

"Hot Wings?" Eliza asked Jace.

He gave her a sheepish look. "Only a couple times. Alec didn't seem as into it, though." He admitted.

She snorted at the image of Jace dragging Alec to a pixie nightclub and the pained expression on Alec's face as he tried to enjoy a night of what Jace considered fun. Jace was definitely correct, he and Izzy really had different definitions of fun.

They reached another curtain, this one made of dark green vines, dark amber droplets embedded in every one. "The Queen is through here. She has traveled from the northern Court to inquire about the recent death of a child and to see about the foresight of a war." Meliorn told them.

There would definitely be a war. Eliza only hoped that the Seelie Queen would fight with them and not against them.

Jace went through the curtain first and Eliza followed him. Clary and Simon ducked through after them and for safe measure, Izzy went last.

The room didn't look as Eliza had expected. It was simply plain, pale fabrics hanging on the wall. Will-o'-the-wisps were in jars, providing dim lit to the room. A woman sat on a couch, a group of faeries surrounding her.

"My Queen." Meliorn bowed. "The Nephilim you requested." He waved his arm to present them to her.

The woman sat up straighter. Her scarlet colored hair fell around her shoulders in deep waves. She had blue eyes, clear as glass, so bright that Eliza could see them from across the room. "You have brought a mundane." Her voice was as sharp as her gaze. Her gaze, which she had settled on the Shadowhunters.

"My lady, our sincerest apologies." Jace put himself between them and the Queen. Eliza was surprised at how soft his voice was. He spoke delicately and carefully. "He is protected by us. We brought him for safe measure." He explained to her.

The Queen was staring at Jace, a perplexed expression on her face. Her head was tilted, clearly interested in whatever he had to say. "Bound by a blood debt. How intriguing." She mused.

"He saved our lives." Jace affirmed. Not exactly the truth as to why they had brought him, but that wasn't the point. "I hope you understand the case, my Queen. We have all heard that your beauty is matched by your kindness," Eliza did not want him to finish his sentence, "which means you must be extremely kind." He had finished it exactly the way she had hoped he wouldn't. Although flattery and charm were his strong suits, she didn't think those would fair well with the Seelie Queen.

However, the Queen smirked at Jace, her body moving forward. "Well, Jonathan Morgenstern, your charm is matched only by that of your father." Eliza heard Jace suck in a breath. She gestured to the cushions on the floor near the couch. "Come sit. Eat and drink. We have much to discuss and it will go over much better if you are all well rested and with full stomachs."

Jace licked his bottom lip, hesitant. He couldn't deny the Queen, but he couldn't accept any food or drink. Eliza stepped forward, putting a hand on Jace's shoulder. She smiled graciously at the Queen. "Sitting would be wonderful." She told the Queen. "It has been a long day."

Meliorn led them to the cushions and watched as they sat down. Eliza situated herself in between Jace and Clary. Simon sat on Clary's other side and Izzy next to him. It felt great to finally sit and it helped that the cushions were extremely comfortable.

A pixie with blue tinted skin came to them, a serving tray with five cups on it. Each of them took one. Simon looked ill as he stared at his drink. The liquid shone gold, pink rose petals floating on top of it. Simon put his cup down, sucking his lips in. The pixie asked if he wasn't thirsty and he told her that the last faerie drink he had accepted hadn't completely agreed with him.

Eliza put her drink on the ground beside her cushion. She saw Clary take a rose petal out of her cup and roll it between her finger and thumb. Jace put his hand on Clary's wrist, whispering something to her.

"So, Meliorn has told me that you believe to have knowledge about the death of our child last night." The Queen said. "Though, I must say, we already know who it was." She continued. Eliza's head jerked up. They did? "It was a vampire, of course. Our child was drained completely of blood. Have you brought us the name of the vampire who committed the crime? Or are you willing to testify against the whole of the New York vampire clan?"

Eliza said no immediately. At that time, siding against the New York clan meant also siding against the London clan. Which meant, putting Declan at risk. So, no matter how much she hated Raphael and wanted him to suffer, she couldn't put Declan in danger.

The Queen stared back at her, clear blue eyes wide with bewilderment. "No?" She repeated, the word thick with question.

"It wasn't any vampire." She told the Queen. "It was my father, Valentine." She spoke so that her voice was even and confident.

The Queen smiled at her, teeth showing. She didn't much care for the smile, it sent chills down her spine. "And how do you know this?" She questioned sharply.

Eliza sat up straighter. She felt the weight of several gazes on her. "Several reasons. For one, I know the head of the New York clan and although he is annoying and quite rude, Raphael wouldn't be so careless with killing. Especially if those kills were other Downworlders."

"This has nothing to do with the fact that you are involved with Declan Kensley, the head of the London clan?" Eliza swallowed the lump in her throat. How did she know about Declan? The Queen gave her another smile. "Oh, yes, Eliza Morgenstern. I know all about your torrid affair with Mr. Kensley."

She locked her jaw, narrowing her eyes. Jace nudged her with his elbow sharply. She unlocked her jaw. "This has nothing to do with my relationship with Declan. This has to do with the fact that last night while my brother and I were locked in the cells under the Silent City, our father slaughtered the Silent Brothers and stole Maellartach, our Soul Sword."

"I have no cares for slaughtered Nephilim. What do you believe this has to do with my children? We fey have no need for a sword that forces the truth."

Eliza bit her tongue. Being smart with the Seelie Queen would get them nowhere. "Of course." She said in a sweet tone. "We believe that Valentine is attempting to convert the Soul Sword into becoming demonic rather than its seraphic nature. He needs the blood of Downworlders to do so."

The Queen leaned forward, eyebrows raised. "Shall this conversion require more blood of fey children?" She asked curtly.

"No." Jace interjected. "He has all the fey blood he needs." She smiled, saying that it was no more concern of theirs what other blood he needed.

The Queen leaned back, satisfied with the silence she had sentenced. Isabelle asked if she wanted revenge on Valentine for murdering a fey child. "In time." She replied. "Our revenge does not have to be so immediate. Unlike you, we have all the time in the world."

"He is creating an army." Jace told her. "One made of demons."

"Your responsibility as Nephilim is to take care of that, is it not?" Jace murmured a yes. "Then, that is not our concern either. You hold your power over us, we Downworlders, because you spend your time slaying demons."

Eliza was quickly growing annoyed with the stagnant nature of the conversation. If they kept on like this, the Queen was never going to help them. "We only thought that if you were to know the truth, that you would agree to help us." Jace told her.

Again, she leaned forward, closer to Jace. Her hair rippled over her shoulders, looking like a waterfall of blood. "We grow exhausted of fighting wars for you. We are under no oath to shed blood for your causes."

Before Jace could speak again, Eliza gave him a sharp look. "If you don't help us, you will all die." She told the Queen. The Queen asked if she was going to kill them. "No. My father will." She said smoothly. "Fifteen years ago, he tried to eradicate Downworlders. You believe that he won't do the same again if he gains the allegiance of the Soul Sword? He will be more powerful than ever." The Queen stared back at her. Eliza felt chills grow on her neck, but she didn't sway. "When he gains his power and puts an end to Shadowhunters and then he comes for you, don't forget that we came here. Do not forget that we warned you."

No one said anything. Not Jace, not Izzy or Clary or Simon. Not the Court. Even the Queen remained steady and silent.

She felt Jace's gaze on her and she risked a glance at him. His golden eyes were hardened, mouth set in a firm line. The Queen picked up her silver chalice and took a long drink. Eliza shifted her weight from one side to the other.

The Queen put her chalice back down. "You show no duty to your own blood. Here I had thought that mortals obsessed over their families." She saw Jace duck his head out of the corner of her eye. "Is this a lie, perhaps?" She questioned. "Love can make any mortal a liar."

"No one could love him. He's a monster." Clary snapped. Jace hadn't looked up from his lap.

"Is that so?" The Queen mused, though her face didn't match her voice.

Jace's head snapped up. "They say that the bonds of family are like that of vines. We all know that sometimes, vines are bound so tightly that they kill."

She swallowed. The deadly vines of family. Vines that had killed her grandparents, vines that had put her mother in a coma.

"Deadly enough that you would willingly betray your own father for the good of your Clave?" Jace said yes immediately. The Queen laughed, the smile staying on her face even after the cold laugh had died away. "I am sure that Valentine never thought that his little experiments would turn against him."

She looked over at Jace to see that he was already staring at her. His brow was furrowed. So, he didn't know what the Queen meant either.

"What does that mean?" Izzy was the one to ask.

The Queen didn't even bother to look at her. She kept her gaze fixed on Jace. "We keep secrets, ours and others'. The next time you see your father, little Morgenstern children, make sure to inquire about the nature of your blood."

"If that is your desire, my Queen, it shall be done." Jace said.

She grinned at him, noting that he was charming, but a liar nonetheless. "I will make you a promise, Jonathan Morgenstern. A promise to you and you alone. If you shall ask your father that question, I will grant you all the aid I can, should you decide to rise against him."

"You are as generous as you are lovely, my lady."

Eliza looked away, rolling her eyes. "If that is all, we're done here." She announced. She stood up, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. Jace stood after her, Izzy, Clary, and Simon following his suit. Izzy moved swiftly across the room, speaking intimately with Meliorn by the vine curtain.

"Before you go," the Queen stood, "one must stay." She was taller than Eliza had thought of her.

Jace had stopped himself by the doorway. "Excuse me?"

She pointed at Clary. "She drank. That means she is ours. You know our law, Shadowhunter." Clary insisted that she didn't drink anything. Eliza said that the fey could not lie. Jace suggested the Queen may be mistaken. "That I am not. Her fingers, she has licked them clean. Has she not?"

"Blood." Clary told them. "A sprite bit my finger and it bled." She explained. Clary walked to the door but was held back by an invisible force. "Oh no."

A lump had stuck itself in Eliza's throat. Clary couldn't stay in the Seelie Court. She wouldn't allow it. "What do you want?" She bit towards the Queen. "A trade? I will stay in place of my sister."

The Queen looked amused; Jace did not. "Liz, no."

"I am curious." The Queen purred. "We are not often visited by young Shadowhunters such as yourselves. We share the blood of angels, you know."

"But no blood of hell." Jace remarked.

The Queen's eyes lit up. "You grow older each minute, Jonathan Morgenstern. Soon, you will die. Is that not hell in its own?"

Eliza couldn't hold her tongue anymore. Jace's sweet nothings towards the Queen were most unhelpful and Clary was _not_ staying in the Court. "You won't gain any knowledge of the Nephilim by keeping my sister. She has no formal training, she knows next to nothing." She gave Clary a sympathetic look. "I, however, have been trained since before I could walk. If you want to study a Nephilim, you will accept my offer."

Instead of looking at her, the Queen was staring at Clary. "You are wrong, Eliza Morgenstern. Your sister, Clarissa, is perfect for me. Your father has bestowed special gifts to her, different than those he gave the two of you. I should like to keep her."

Eliza choked on her own breath. _Keep her_? She wasn't keeping Clary, if Eliza had to kill the Queen, she would.

"He's never given me anything." Clary insisted. "Nothing but a sperm donation." Spunky and crass. Eliza truly did like her little sister.

"Incorrect, Clarissa. He gave you a gift, one of words which cannot be spoken." She glanced at Jace. "Just as your brother was bestowed of the Angel himself. And your sister," the Seelie Queen's eyes darkened as she looked at Eliza, "hers is the gift of Edom itself. Valentine gave each of you a gift before you came screaming from your mother."

"He didn't even name me. He hates my name." Clary told her.

"You have been lied to, my lady." Jace told the Queen. "My sisters and I, we are not special."

She laughed, shaking her head slowly. "Young Jonathan, you are not unaware of the fact that you are not normal." She surveyed the Shadowhunters in the room, blue eyes quickly moving over them. "Do you not know?" She murmured.

"All I know is that neither of my sisters are going to stay in the Seelie Court." Jace snapped at her. "You have had your fun. Let us leave."

Eliza stifled her laugh. Jace may have been working her last nerves as of late, but he was protective until his last breath.

She hated the grin that the Queen gave Jace. "She may be freed. For a kiss." Clary asked if she wanted Jace to kiss her. The Queen did not hold in her laughter. Once she started, the whole Court joined her. "Unfortunately, no. That kiss will not set you free, Clarissa Morgenstern."

Isabelle suggested that she kiss Meliorn. The Queen said that no kiss of anyone in the Court would free Clary. Isabelle said that she wasn't kissing anyone else. Simon moved closer to Clary, grasping her elbows. She glanced back at Jace, who wasn't even looking.

"Not that." The Queen interceded before Simon could kiss Clary. Isabelle said if she had to, she would kiss Simon, if that was what it took to get them out of the Seelie Court. "That will not work either."

"I'm not kissing you, Simon." Jace told the mundane. "I'd rather stay here and rot forever."

As Simon and Jace taunted each other with words, Eliza felt the steel gaze of the Queen settled on her. She looked at her. The Queen had a half-amused, half-cruel look on her face. Her eyes twinkled as they stared at each other. "The kiss that will set you free is the kiss you desire most, Clarissa Morgenstern."

Eliza didn't want to look away from the Queen's face, but she was afraid of what she would see if she turned away. "Why?" Jace asked, his voice as sharp as the knife in Eliza's heart.

"They're siblings." Simon reminded everyone. "Brother and sister."

Eliza wanted very much to speak up, to tell the truth. It was the time to tell everyone that they were entangled in another of her lies, this one spun by Valentine. Jace was not Valentine's son, not of Morgenstern flesh and blood.

But, no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't. Her father would know, somehow, some way, he would find out. She would pay for it. Whether he hurt her directly, or hurt someone she loved, she would pay. She couldn't let him hurt anyone else, even if that meant feeling the stabbing pain in her heart right then and there.

"It's a trick." Simon told Clary. "You don't have to."

Eliza forced herself to turn around to look at them. "Yes, she does. If she doesn't, she must stay here."

"It's just a kiss." Isabelle assured him. He asked if she would kiss Alec if the Queen wanted her to. "Of course. I'd make out with him if it meant not being stuck in the Seelie Court forever."

"Isabelle is right, it's only a kiss." Jace finally spoke. He moved deftly towards Clary, stopping just in front of her. He put a hand on her shoulder, sparing a glance at Eliza. Before their eyes could meet, she turned away, instead looking at Simon.

He wore the same pained expression that she was doing her best to hide. The words that Jace and Clary exchanged were quiet, lost upon her as she focused all of her attention on the strangled look Simon had.

His dark eyes somehow got darker and his anger molded into…heartbreak. As much as she wanted to, she didn't look away. She knew they were kissing, her sister and Jace.

She knew that she shouldn't have felt the way she did, a mess of anger and sadness, a little of despair mixed in. There was Declan, she had Declan. Wonderful and doting and overprotective, sweet-natured Declan. Declan who insisted on courting her and calling her "his love" and paying for everyone's food.

But Declan was not Jace. She couldn't deny that. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't deny how she still felt about him. As long as it was her secret and hers alone, it didn't matter. As long as no one else knew, it would be fine.

"Was that enough for you?" Jace's voice drew her out of her own head. "Are you satisfied?"

"Quite so." The Queen replied.

Eliza's heart felt the way Simon's face looked. Izzy asked if Clary could go. Clary moved to the door, nothing stopping her from stepping through the doorway. Clary, her voice small, said they needed to go before it got too late. Simon replied curtly, saying maybe it already was.

Eliza set her jaw. She turned her attention back to the Queen. "Thank you for the audience. We look forward to receiving your aid."

The Queen gave her a gracious smile. "I am sure you do, Eliza Morgenstern."

* * *

Meliorn led them through the Seelie Court, taking them back to the park. The whole trip, he never spoke. He didn't even say good-bye to Isabelle before falling back into the moon's reflection in Turtle Pond.

"Consider that over." Isabelle muttered. Jace choked out a laugh. "Let's get back. It's cold. We might all die." Clary said that going back to Brooklyn would take forever. "Well, no one is at the Institute. We can go there. You guys can change there, too."

Jace nodded thoughtfully. He said that he needed something from there anyway. "It's okay." Clary told Isabelle. "Simon and I can just catch a cab back to Brooklyn." Her voice sounded hopeful.

Eliza looked past Clary. Simon was nowhere to be found. "He's left, Clary." She said softly.

Clary whipped around. Her head moved quickly as she surveyed the area for someone who wasn't there anymore. Clary took off running, shouting his name.

She saw Clary stop and heard her yell for Simon again. Just seconds later, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Eliza's heart dropped.

Poor Simon.

She bit down on her lip, pushing away thoughts of what exactly Simon had seen. Intimate enough to make him leave without a word to anyone. Her eyes burned with tears she didn't want to let fall.

Jace's hand slipped around her wrist. He tugged gently as Isabelle started towards Clary. She turned to look at him. His eyes were soft, pleading and wide.

He opened his mouth, but she shook her head. She didn't want to hear whatever he had to say, she couldn't. "Don't, Jace. Please. Just don't." She whispered.

"Liz." He begged.

She jerked her arm away just as the tears began to fall. She blinked them away, turning her back on him and walking the other way.


	17. Chapter 17

The only person who was in the Institute was Max. Max, who had no doubt tried to wait up for whoever would be the one to first walk through the door in return, but had fallen asleep on the foyer couch instead.

Jace bent down and plucked Max's glasses off his face and carefully placed them on the end table. Isabelle hung her dark green coat on the hook by the door, warning Jace not to dirty up Max's things. She announced that she was going to take a good, hot shower and pranced out of the room.

The air in the foyer immediately went stale. Clary was staring hard at Max's sleeping figure, Jace had trained his eyes on the door.

"I'm going to my room." The words were thick in her throat. Jace's head snapped up and his eyes landed on her. "I need to call Magnus. And shower."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "What if they converted your room?" He asked her. "It could be anything now. An extra library, a new apothecary, the possibilities are endless."

She thought about responding, entertaining his ridiculous notions. She promptly deciding against it. She didn't particularly feel like speaking to him. "I'll make sure to ask Magnus when you need to be back." She turned her attention to Clary. "If you need to borrow something to wear, I left a few changes of clothes here."

Clary nodded, saying thank you quietly. She watched as Jace opened his mouth, surely to say something that would make everything much more awkward than it already was. Then, he just said nothing at all, clamping his mouth shut.

At that, she turned away and began walking down the hallway. Unsurprisingly, her room was still where it had always been. Her heart fluttered as she opened the door.

 _Still the same._

The large bed was still right across from the door, the black duvet was still perfectly made up. The vanity and the other dresser were by the bathroom door.

Someone knocked on her door. She frowned. If it was Clary, she'd have to let her shower first. That was the nice, sisterly thing to do, right?

She opened the door, half-surprised to see Jace. He didn't say anything, just pushing past her into the room. She let the door close.

"I was just about to shower." She told him.

He licked his lips. "I don't believe you."

"You think I'm lying about getting in the shower? Why would I lie about showering?" She asked.

He paced the room, tip of his thumb in his mouth as he chewed on his nail. His other hand rested on the back of his neck. "You didn't ruin us, Liz. I know you think that, but you didn't."

She wanted to talk, but she didn't know the words to say. They couldn't have that conversation, no matter how badly she wanted it. Because of all the lies she had told, because of Declan. "We can't do this. Please leave."

He stopped pacing, just in front of her bathroom door. He stared back at her, eyes wide. "You want me to leave?" She said yes. "Because of the kiss?" She managed to say no. "Then why?"

Her tongue felt a little too big for her mouth. There were words stuck in her throat and her legs were stiff. "I don't want to talk to you, Jace. What about that don't you understand?"

He flinched. "I saw your face. After I kissed her."

She raised her eyebrows. "Her being our sister. After you kissed our sister." His cheeks flared red. He reminded her that he had to in order to make sure she didn't stay in the Seelie Court. "I saw his face, Simon's. When you kissed his girlfriend. Whatever you saw on my face, it was for Simon. Will you leave now?"

"Liz, please." He sighed. He ran his hands through his hair.

She bit down on her lip. "What do you want me to say, Jace?" She asked him. "I don't think I can tell you what you want to hear. I'm sorry."

When would she be able to breathe again? Would there ever come a day when she would be able to open her mouth and tell the truth? One that wasn't scattered in lies. She was sure that was what drowning felt like. Drowning in lies and drowning in water perhaps were not so different. Either way, you lost yourself.

"Because of Declan?" What the hell did Declan have to do with anything? Declan wasn't the problem, why wouldn't he see that?

Valentine was the problem. He had always been the problem. Without her father, everything would have been fine. If he had stayed away, if she really would have been able to keep the Cup from him, they would have been happy. But instead, Valentine had succeeded. He had gotten the Cup, and the Sword, and forced her to ravel more lies for him.

She knew if she didn't keep up the lie he had spun, someone would get hurt. It could be anyone. Izzy, Alec, Max, Clary, Simon, Magnus, Declan. Jace. He would hurt Jace, because he knew she loved him the most of anyone. Maybe he wouldn't hurt him physically, but he would spin webs of lies to entangle him and make him believe anything he said, and he would take him away and make him his.

He would ruin Jace far more than she ever had.

"Because I don't feel for you what you've felt for me. I never have. I told you. I lied. I'm sorry that I hurt you but everything I've done and everything I will do is to protect the people I care about. I need you to understand that and to get on with your life."

His jaw tightened and his hands fell to his sides. After a moment, his face went slack. The bright of his eyes darkened. "I love you, Liz. I know you feel the same way. I feel it."

Her heart clenched. There was something holding it, squeezing it and trying to crush it. "You can't." She told him quietly. "Please, Jace. You can't say things like that anymore."

He stepped closer to her, standing right in front of her. So close she could feel his breath on her face. His hands found her neck, thumbs resting on her jawline. Her eyes closed and she let out a sigh. "Lizzie." He breathed.

She felt his face draw closer, close enough that if she just moved a little bit, their lips would be touching. "I never thought I would love someone the way I love you." He said.

Her eyes fluttered open and their gazes met. He was staring at her with that look, hooded eyes and mouth slightly open. He leaned down just a little, his lips barely brushing against hers. She wanted to fall into it, to let herself feel it for just a moment.

Only a moment.

 _Little dove? Are you alive?_

She snapped back, stumbling backwards away from him. Her eyes shot open and she stared back at Jace. His eyes were wide. "Liz?"

She licked her bottom lip. "You have to go. This…This shouldn't…I'm sorry."

He blinked a few times and then locked his jaw. He didn't say anything as he brushed past her, his shoulder knocking against hers. The door shut quietly, and she heard him walking down the hall.

For the second time that night, Eliza cried.

* * *

The tolling of the Institute's doorbell woke her from her uneven sleep. She rose from her bed, pulling back the duvet so it looked mostly kept up. She slipped her boots back on and adjusted her skewed clothes.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Three in the morning? Who the hell was asking to get into the Institute at three in the morning?

Leaving her room, she saw Isabelle standing in the hallway, enveloped in a warm looking bathrobe. Jace and Clary were standing on the other side of Isabelle. Clary was wearing one of Jace's shirts.

Refraining from a biting remark, Eliza shut her door. "What's going on?" She asked.

Clary shrugged. "Someone is interrupting my beauty sleep." Isabelle told her, adjusting the sleep mask on her forehead.

"It's not a Shadowhunter." Jace reminded them. "It's…someone else."

"Simon!" Clary exclaimed. "It has to be Simon!" Izzy yawned and they started to walk toward the foyer. Max was no longer on the couch. Izzy went over to the wall and adjusted the elevator switch, announcing that the elevator would be up any moment.

Clary wrapped her arms around herself and Eliza heard her teeth chatter. Izzy took a coat off the hook and handed it to her. Clary put the coat on. Just then, the elevator arrived, and Clary immediately got inside.

"Clary?" Izzy asked. "What are you doing?"

"Simon's downstairs…?"

Jace got in the elevator. "You guys can go back to sleep." He was staring at Eliza.

She rolled her eyes and stepped into the elevator. She grabbed Izzy by the wrist and pulled the other girl into the elevator.

The doors slid open once they reached the cathedral. Clary practically ran out of the elevator and ran down the walkway between the pews of the nave.

"Clary! Wait!" Eliza shouted for her. Clary didn't listen, rather, she ran faster. The bell tolled again.

Clary jolted to a stop at the double-doors, trying to slide back the bolts that kept the door locked. Jace reached and pulled the doors open for her. Cool night air gusted into the room, blowing out whatever light the candles had provided.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and saw him standing there on the steps. His dark black curls blew softly in the wind and his white shirt bright in the night. She was just about to tell him to get the hell off of their property when she saw what he held in his hands.

Well, who he held in his hands.

Limp, dangling limbs. Bloodied throat. Her heart contracted and she moved to shield Clary. She stepped in front of her sister and Jace pulled Clary backwards. She heard Clary fall to her knees.

"What have you done?" She hissed. "What the hell have you done?"

Someone else stepped out of the shadows. Declan, in all his glory. His hands were wrung together in front of him. Izzy launched a candelabra at Raphael.

"Eliza, my love, it was not him." Declan said.

"He is not dead." Raphael told her. "I promise you." He carefully laid Simon's body down on a step, not breaking eye contact with her.

She looked down at Simon's body. Clary had taken her claim over him, pulling his head into her lap. She was whispering his name, asking for him to wake up.

Eliza knelt down and put two gentle fingers on his throat. Barely there was his pulse. Slow, and slowing still. "Clary." She whispered to her sister. "He's dying. He will die if we don't help him."

"No longer than ten minutes." Raphael piped up.

Eliza shot him an icy glare. Clary's hand jerked out and she grabbed Eliza's wrist. "Call Magnus. Get him here now. He can help him. He can save him like he saved Alec."

Her heart sank. Even if Magnus could help him, he would never get there in time. He would never make it. Slowly, she licked her lips and looked back at Raphael and Declan.

"What happened?" Jace asked them. "Tell us or I'll cut out your heart, like I should have the last time we met."

Raphael gave him a shark's grin. "You took an oath. You and your…sister." He glanced at Eliza. Jace mentioned that they never finished the oath. Izzy said she never took one to start with. "I brought him here to you because you broke into my domain to search for him that night. He broke in tonight, as you had done not so long ago. Yet, I did not let the others drink him."

Clary's head jerked up. "What do you mean he broke in? Simon wouldn't be so stupid."

Ah, yes, he would. He was a mundane. He was in love. He was hurt. Singularly, all were already bad enough. But, put together…a deadly combination. People did unnaturally crazy things when they were hurt and in love. Especially when hurt by the ones they loved.

"He was afraid." Declan told them. "Afraid of becoming like us." Raphael agreed with him, telling them that Simon wanted to know if the process could be reversed. "Raphael said he bit him. When he was a rat."

Eliza felt sick to her stomach. She had never thought anything of it, never giving it a second thought at all really. Simon had merely bitten Raphael to get away, to provide a distraction. She had never thought that he may have ingested some of the vampire's blood.

A vampire bite was nothing. It would do nothing but cause bleeding. But, biting a vampire and ingesting their blood…That was another thing entirely. Ingesting vampire blood began the transition.

"Oh, God." Clary mumbled.

Raphael nodded. "My blood in him would have passed over time. He would have been fine, but…"

Eliza didn't let him finish the sentence. She grabbed Clary's bloodied hands and made her sister look at her. "Clary, Simon is going to die." She told her firmly. Clary's eyes widened and her throat bobbed with another sob. "Listen very carefully to me, please." She continued. "Simon's going to die. But, he'll wake up. He'll become a vampire."

"Liz, don't believe him." Jace warned her. "Remember who he is. What he did to you."

She lifted her hand, fingers carefully touching the burning scar on her throat. She bit the inside of her jaw and took Clary's hand back. "It's true, Jace." She said. "You know how this works. He consumed the blood. He died. He rises as a vampire."

Tears ran down Clary's cheeks and the girl closed her eyes. She removed her hands from Eliza's grip and went back to grasping Simon's bloody shirt front. "This means, also, that Simon belongs to me now." Raphael told them. His voice was as dead as she wanted him to be. Izzy asked if anything could be done to fix it. Raphael said the only way to fix it might be to throw his dismembered body in a fire.

Jace looked down at Clary. "What would he want?" He asked her. "What would Simon want to do?" He held a candelabra in his hand absently.

"Get away!" She screamed at him. "Get away from us!"

Eliza jumped to her feet and grabbed Jace, pulling him away from Clary. The blood on her hands stained his forearms. Just then, Simon lurched forward, eyes wide. She breathed in sharply. Clary was whispering to him words of love and kindness when he took his last breath.

Isabelle was shouting at Raphael. Jace had dropped the candelabra to the ground, staring down at Clary. Clary's eyes had not left Simon. Declan was staring at her and Raphael was staring at them.

"What do we do?" She asked. "What do we do now?" Raphael opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. "I was talking to Declan." She snapped. "I don't want to hear another word from you."

Declan gave her a kind, but worried smile. "You must bury him. He has to dig his way out of the grave to be reborn." He told her.

She swallowed. She didn't want to think about poor Simon having to dig his way out of the earth. Instead, she thought of Declan. How confused he must have been to have died and then to claw his way out of the ground and be reborn as a vampire, something that needed blood to survive on. She found it hard to picture proper Declan Kensley, head of the London clan, digging his way out of the ground centuries ago.

"I'm not putting him in the ground." Clary shouted at them. "I won't!"

"He will never wake, then." Declan spoke with a smoothness and a politeness that was comforting and unnerving at the same time. "The longer we wait and argue about his fate, the more we are choosing for him. You have to bury him soon or he may not come out at all."

Eliza knelt down in front of her sister. "Clary, I know this isn't easy, especially to be the one to decide this so quickly. But, if you don't want to lose him forever, this must be done."

Clary blinked away tears rapidly and nodded. "In a Jewish cemetery. And I want to be there when he comes out."

Eliza gave her a small smile. "Of course. We'll stay with you." She told her.

"Clary, when he comes out, you may not want to see it." Declan warned her. "It will not be pleasant."

She heard Clary swallow. "Well, nothing ever is anymore." Clary said quietly. Declan offered to carry Simon and she let him. He bent down and picked his limp body up, cradling it close by. Clary walked beside him, never taking her eyes off of Simon.

"You shouldn't give her hope like that. That he'll be the same Simon when he wakes up." Jace whispered in her ear. "You know better."

She said no, she didn't. Not all vampires were Raphael. There were those like Declan, who had retained their old selves and not let the disease consume them. She only hoped that Simon would be one of them. For Clary's sake.

* * *

Clary led the way to the cemetery, just outside of Queens. Once they found an open and secluded spot, Raphael began digging into the earth. The spot Clary had picked was on top of a low hill, trees separating them from the line of sight of the road.

"Was he in pain?" Clary asked Raphael as he dug. "Did he suffer at all?" In a soft voice, he told her no, he only felt like he was drifting off to sleep. Jace grabbed Clary gently by the hand and walked her a few feet away.

Simon's body was lying on the ground, Isabelle standing guard over it. Her whip was in her hand. With it, she looked ready to kick any sort of ass that needed kicked.

Eliza let her hand slip into Declan's and she rested her head on his chest. "You were there, weren't you?" She murmured.

He said yes. "I was just leaving. Magnus had given me the allowance to stay for however long I wanted. He knows how much I detest both Raphael and Camille." Magnus was allowing him to stay at the apartment? Without asking her first? "I told Simon to leave when he walked into the doors. He would die if he stayed, but he did not listen. I told Raphael that he was not to be injured."

She glanced at Simon's body. "That didn't help." She told him. "Declan, what happened to you?" She asked, looking up at him. "I mean, how did you become a vampire?"

He rested his hand on the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair. "It is not a happy tale, my love." She said that nothing ever was. "I was returning from a ball with my sister and her husband. That night, my sister had said something to upset him greatly and he lashed out, biting her in the carriage. I was overcome, I did not know what to do or say. He told me this spinning tale of how, while away on business just a few weeks prior, he had come across an odd sort of man. The two of them made a gamble and agreed that if my brother in law won, the man would grant him immortality. When my brother in law won, as he was privy to do, the man gave him a cup and told him to drink. Edward did not know that the drink was the man's blood. He did not recall the next few days, only returning home to my sister and thirsting for something most unnatural."

"Declan…" She said. She didn't want him to finish the story. She didn't want to know if he had become a vampire of his own accord.

"I laughed at him, I could not help myself. I found his story so ridiculous. That was when he cut himself and forced his blood into my mouth. I awoke several hours later, buried under the ground. I clawed my way out and there Edward was, waiting for me. He had my sister with him. There was still blood on her gown. I-I could not stop myself from…"

He tore away from her, turning around so as not to face her any longer. Her hands fell to her sides. He didn't have to finish his sentence for her to understand what he had done. Blood to a newly born vampire was often too tempting to resist.

She hadn't even known he had a sister. "What was her name?" She asked. "Your sister."

He turned back around, his eyes dark. "Adelaide. Her name was Adelaide. My baby sister." His voice was quiet, just barely heard over the breeze of the wind. "I promised our mother that I would always take care of her."

She knew his mother had died when he was young. He had never said how, and she had never asked. "It wasn't your fault." She told him. "Edward was a dick."

The faintest of smiles painted itself on his lips. He embraced her again, hugging her in his tightly gentle way. "Eliza Morgenstern, you are the great brightness in my life. Brighter even than the moon in all her glory."

She bit down on her lip, forcing away a smile. "Declan, the sun is brighter than the moon." She reminded him.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her. "Yes, but I have not seen the sun in many, many years. Until you, the moon was the brightest thing I had to look at."

His words fluttered in her chest and she rested her head against him, allowing herself to finally feel content.

Someone shouted Jace's name and she jerked back from Declan, spinning away from him. Alec was sprinting towards them, Magnus walking lazily behind him. Alec held something in his hand.

Eliza watched him approach Jace and Clary at the bottom of the hill. He handed Jace a bag and Jace peered into it. The group of them began walking back up the hill.

"It's blood." Declan told her in a quiet voice. "Animal blood, I think."

She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about the fact that he could sniff blood from that far away. When she looked away, she noticed that Raphael had already buried Simon into the hole he had dug. Izzy was sitting next to the freshly pact ground, arms wrapped around herself.

Declan offered her his coat and she accepted it silently. "It feels like winter out here." Clary mumbled, pulling the velvet coat closer to her body.

"We are lucky it isn't." Raphael told her. "The ground freezes so hard in the winter, it is near impossible to dig through. Some fledglings must wait until the spring to be reborn."

Clary choked on a sob. "You are not helping." Declan told Raphael. He turned to Magnus. "Good to see you again, Magnus."

Magnus reached out and they shook hands. "I've never seen one of your kind be reborn before." He shot a pointed look at Eliza. "Plus, my little dove never answered me earlier. I was beginning to think you had died in the Seelie Court. But then I remembered that had we been so misfortunate in that case, the whole city would have been burned down." He gave Jace a sly look.

Eliza frowned at him, her cheeks feeling warm. "I'm sorry." She told him. "We've been…busy."

Izzy grabbed at Clary's elbow and Clary asked her what was wrong. Izzy was flushed a pale white, even her lips colorless. "Maybe we should have just let him go…" Izzy murmured.

Clary tore away from her. "Die, you mean." She snapped at Izzy. "I'm not surprised. You of all people would think that anyone who wasn't like you would be better off dead anyways."

Izzy's colorless face fell, shattered like a beautiful portrait. Eliza was sure that wasn't what Isabelle had meant by her words.

Under them, just near their feet, the ground moved. It sounded like a drum, or a heartbeat, thumping underneath them. Eliza stumbled back and Declan grabbed on to her arms to steady her. She looked up at him and he nodded once. "He is rising." He whispered softly in her ear.

Just beside Clary, the ground shifted, and she fell down, landing hard on her knees. Eliza moved to help her up, but Declan held her back. The ground burst open, dirt flying in the air. Pale fingers clawed through the ground and she heard Clary shout Simon's name.

Raphael grabbed her and held her back to keep her from trying to help Simon out of his grave. Clary freed herself from him and rushed forward, only to be knocked back by the force of the ground moving again.

Simon crawled out of the ground, body coated in dried blood and dirt. He collapsed on the ground just beside the grave. Clary ran towards him and stumbled, falling next to him. She reached out for him, calling his name. Just as she grabbed onto his shoulder, Eliza yanked out of Declan's grasp and grabbed Clary by the shoulders.

Simon's head whipped around to look at Clary. And then, he sprang at her.

Eliza yanked Clary backwards as Clary screamed. Clary fell back onto the ground and Simon loomed over her, hissing, fangs glistening in the moonlight. He leapt on her, hands gripping her shoulders and forcing her on the ground.

Without even thinking, Eliza reached out. She wrapped her arm around his neck and yanked him off Clary. He kicked and flailed back at her and tried to thrash his head around, but she only held him tighter.

"Liz!" Jace shouted.

She wrapped her other arm around his waist, pinning his arms down. She looked over at everyone. "No one else was moving fast enough." She told them. "Someone help Clary up, please."

Declan carefully lifted Clary to her feet and helped her brush the dirt off her clothes. He inspected her for any injuries and told everyone she was fine.

"He doesn't even remember me." Clary cried. "I'm his best friend and he doesn't remember me."

Declan put his arm around her and held her close. "He remembers you. I know he does." He assured her.

"He simply does not care." Raphael interjected. "He's starving. Blood is the only thing that matters to him right now." Declan reminded him that he wasn't being helpful.

Jace handed Raphael the bag that Alec had given him upon arriving. Raphael dumped the contents on the ground. Several packets of blood thudded against the ground. Eliza's nose wrinkled in disgust. Raphael tore open one of the packets. Simon squirmed in her arms.

"Eliza is going to let you go. You must stay calm or I will not give you the blood." Raphael told him. Simon gave a nod, the best he could do in his current position. Raphael nodded at her and Eliza released him and took several slow steps back. Raphael handed the blood to Simon. Simon practically snatched it away from him, his hands caked in blood and dirt and the fingernails torn apart.

He went through two packets of blood before Raphael slowed him down. Blood had run down his mouth and chin, eyes closed in content.

Eliza watched as Clary staggered away from the horrendous scene, hands clutching at her stomach. Jace moved to go after her but she reached out and held him in place. "Don't. She needs to be alone."

Jace looked over at her. "Do you think she'll be okay?" He asked.

She shrugged, looking at Simon and then back to Jace. "She's stronger than we think."

* * *

Declan had left with Raphael and Simon, promising to watch out for Simon and to help him as best he could. Magnus promised to take Clary back to Luke's. Izzy and Alec returned to the Institute. Jace and Eliza went back to Magnus'.

She had showered for a while, exactly how long, she wasn't sure. She had scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until she couldn't even imagine her hands having been covered in Simon's blood at all. She spent unimaginable time washing her hair, scraping out any dirt or grime that could have been present.

By the time she got out, she was exhausted. It was early in the day, just after daybreak. A few hours of sleep would do her good, she knew that much.

Crawling into bed, Chairman Meow joined her, curling up on her spare pillow. With his tail brushing her cheek every so often, she fell asleep.

 _She was sitting in a carriage. The whole of it shook every time it bounced over a rock or even a little pebble or mound of dirt. It jostled them each time and she found herself grabbing onto the velvet side so as not to move so much._

 _The stays of her corset were much too tight, and she felt as if she couldn't breathe at all. The green and gold gown was beautiful, no doubt, but comfort was apparently unaccounted for in fashion. Across from her were two men, talking intimately to each other in hushed tones._

 _"It is very rude to have a secretive conversation when in the presence of another. Especially when it is me." She told them, whacking one of them with her fan._

 _The two of them looked up immediately and she felt herself grow cold. Jace was staring at her adoringly, his golden eyes molten with affection. His curls looped on his forehead like overgrown vines and he smiled at her graciously._

 _"My apologies, little sister." The other one drawled._

 _She looked at her brother, her stomach churning. His black eyes, void of anything but malice, bore into her. The smile he gave her was nothing like Jace's. It was cold and hateful, much like him._

 _Fangs._

 _They protruded from his mouth in place of his canines, pointed just over his bottom lip. "Little sister, you look scared. Are you scared of me?" Like Jace, his white hair was slightly curled on the bottom. Father had never let his hair grow so long before._

 _"No. Never." She told him._

 _He grinned back at her. "You should be." He turned back to Jace and slit open his own wrist, forcing the cut onto Jace's lips. She screamed and shouted for the driver to stop the carriage immediately. It kept going._

 _"No. No, please don't." She urged him._

 _Without a word, he snapped Jace's neck._

 _The scene shifted and they were in a field. The night air was cold, and he had not allowed her to get her wrap from the carriage before dragging her out. He had buried Jace in a shallow grave. They waited in silence for him to rise, Jonathan holding her against his person tightly._

 _The ground heaved and tore apart as Jace rose from his freshly dug grave._

 _"My brother." Jonathan breathed. "I have a gift for you." He pushed her forward, closer to Jace, holding her in place with his hand at the small of her back. "Isn't she perfect?" He crooned._

 _Jace breathed a yes as he grabbed onto her, hands firm on her upper arms. "Jace. Please." She begged. "Do not."_

 _He leaned forward, his nose brushing against her neck. She felt his teeth sink into her throat and she found herself unable to scream._

Someone was holding onto her shoulders, shaking her gently. "Liz. Lizzie, wake up." His voice was soft and careful.

Her eyes flashed open. Jace was kneeling beside her, Chairman Meow hissing at him from his spot on the pillow. "Jace? It's you? You aren't a vampire?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "No. I'm not. You were screaming. Bad dream?"

 _The worst,_ she thought, hands covering her throat. "I'm fine." She mumbled. "Sorry if I woke you up."

He shrugged, moving to sit down next to her. "Do you want me to stay?" His voice was quiet, almost inaudible. She looked over at him. He wasn't staring at her, instead plucking feathers from a hole in the duvet.

"Will you?" She responded just as quietly.

He didn't answer. Instead, he moved to the other side of the bed. He displaced Chairman Meow and the little kitten curled himself at the foot of the bed. Jace got under the duvet and moved around until he was comfortable.

Eliza adjusted her head, so she was on her side, facing him. "I'm sorry about earlier." She told him. "I never meant to hurt you, Jace."

He reached out and ran a finger down her cheek. "I know. Just go to sleep, Liz. We'll talk later."

She rolled back over and got comfortable. She felt Chairman Meow move so that he was curled around her head on her pillow. Slowly, she drifted off.


	18. Chapter 18

When she woke up, Jace was still in her bed. He was awake, sitting up and nose buried in a book. _Manchurian Candidate._ He glanced over quickly and then went back to the book. "Morning." She tossed back the duvet and got out of bed. She looked at the clock and grimaced. "What's wrong?" He asked, putting the book down.

"I'm supposed to meet Clary at the hospital in like, an hour and a half." She told him. "I've got to get ready." He stared back at her, not blinking. "That means you should probably…let me?" She said slowly.

He practically vaulted from the bed. "Right. See you later."

"Jace." He was standing in her doorway, back to her. His head moved just a little. "Thank you, for last night." He didn't say anything as he left her room.

She hurried in the shower, going as far as to brush her teeth while face wash soaked. She threw on a pair of jeans, boots, and a grey long sleeve. Just in case, she grabbed a jacket.

"I'm leaving! Be back later!" She shouted as she jogged out of the apartment.

She caught a cab to Beth Israel hospital and it only took thirty-six minutes to get there, traffic and all. Clary was waiting in their mother's room. She was standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed.

"Hi. Sorry. I overslept." Eliza sucked in a breath. Clary turned and waved, saying it was fine. "Luke?" She asked.

"Coffee machine." Clary answered. She pulled one of the metal chairs to the bedside and sat down. Her sister's face was red and her eyes puffy.

"Clary, do you want me to go?" Eliza asked quietly.

Clary's head turned and she said no quickly. "She's your mother too. She would appreciate you being here."

Eliza put her hands behind her back. "I don't know her the way you do. I barely remember her. She's my mother, but she isn't my mom. If you want time with her alone, I can come back some other time."

Clary's face softened. She leaned back in the chair, still holding Jocelyn's pale hand. Eliza started towards the door. "You know, I heard her talking about you one time. A few years ago." Clary said suddenly. Eliza looked back at her, eyebrows raised. Clary nodded. "I got stung by a bee and I had a really bad reaction, so she and Luke took me to the emergency room. I was fine, but I heard her talking to Luke when she thought I was still asleep. She was freaking out about it and she said something about you being allergic to bees and wondered if it was some weird genetic thing we had both gotten. Except, I didn't know it was about you at the time…I thought Eliza was like, a cousin or something."

She smiled, leaning her head against the door frame. "Are you allergic?" She asked wryly. Clary laughed and said no, she wasn't. "There was this time when Jonathan and I were playing in the garden and she was watching us. There was a beehive and he knocked me into it and the bees stung me. That's when we found out I was allergic."

Jonathan had been malicious from the very beginning. She was sure that even in utero, he had probably tried to strangle her or absorb her or something. For him, it had been a fatal competition since the beginning.

Clary's face twisted in confusion. "Jace pushed you into a beehive?"

Jace?

There. For a split second, for just a teeny moment, she had forgotten about the lie Valentine had forced her to weave. Jace was not Jonathan in that moment. In that moment, Jace and Jonathan were not synonymous, they were not both her brother.

But, in reality, in the one she had been forced to live and lie, Jace was Jonathan. Jonathan was Jace. Jace Wayland was Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern and whoever Jace had been before Valentine stole him did not exist.

"We didn't always get along so well." Eliza said uneasily. "It's a twin thing." Clary frowned at her, brows furrowed deeply. Of course, it was hard for her to imagine a time when the two of them hadn't gotten along. She had stumbled into their lives at the peak of their co-existence. Clary didn't know that when they had first met, Jace had despised her. Now, they functioned well enough, but it was nothing like it had been before.

Before Valentine ruined them. Before she had ruined them.

* * *

She worked lazily. Her mind was fuzzy, not necessarily full of thoughts, but not entirely blank either. Her wrists flicked without thought, knives being carelessly launched into the target boards. Each one stuck; they always stuck.

At least she had that going for her. Consistent and true to aim.

"Liz?" Isabelle's voice wafted through the training room.

Eliza turned, releasing another knife. She heard it stick to the board and didn't even bother to check if she hit the mark. She knew she did. "Hey."

"What are you doing here? Jace said you went to see your mom."

Eliza shrugged. She went to throw another knife only to realize she didn't have any left. She sighed and went to the target boards. She yanked the knives from the targets and brushed each one off against her shirt. "Oh, yeah." She said. "Clary was there, and she really needed to get some things off her chest and, well, it just felt kind of weird for me to be there. So, I left."

Izzy frowned. She leaned against the weapons table, crossing her arms off her chest. "You felt weird seeing your mom at the hospital? That's not weird, Liz."

She said yeah, it really was. She put the knives back in their sleeve and placed them back in the drawer. "They have this intense and special relationship, Clary and her- our mom. It's like the relationship I always thought I would have had with my mom, well, maybe a little different, I guess. But I was standing there, and Clary was clearly upset, and she just kept _staring_ at Jocelyn with this upset look on her face and I felt it. I really felt it. I was out of place. I didn't belong there. So then, I started thinking and I realized something." Izzy asked what that was. "I don't belong anywhere."

The younger girl's eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "That's crazy." She told Eliza. "You belong here at the Institute. You're a Shadowhunter. You're one of us."

She shook her head. "No, I don't, Izzy. I haven't belonged anywhere. Not here. Not with my father and J- not anywhere. It's okay." She said.

"You called her Jocelyn." Izzy said suddenly. "Why'd you call your mom by her name?"

She gave Izzy a melancholy smile. "Because she's not my mom, she's Clary's. For me, she's just another thing Valentine ripped away from me."

She left Izzy in the training room, making her way to the greenhouse. It was dreadfully dull looking. She assumed no one had been watering it since Hodge's abrupt departure from the Institute. She supposed Maryse couldn't be bothered with such a boring task as watering plants.

She took it upon herself to water the contents of the greenhouse. She filled the watering can up with water from the hose.

When she was younger, she had often caught herself wondering what her life would have been like with a mother. Valentine had told her that Jocelyn had purposefully left she and Jonathan behind, she couldn't be bothered to raise two young children. Even as a child, she had found something wrong with that story. It had never settled well with her.

She had laid awake countless nights, imagining Jocelyn Fairchild. To her fantastic child mind, Jocelyn had looked like a warrior queen. She was strong, bright red curls that flew in the wind, covered in Marks, the best of Shadowhunters. The Jocelyn she had thought up was the strongest and bravest of Shadowhunters.

The Jocelyn she had imagined came into her room every night and they had long talks about fighting and demons and the conversation would eventually divulge into hopes and dreams. They would talk until the sun came up sometimes, time escaping them.

Upon first meeting her mother, those old thoughts had resurfaced. And seeing the photo of Clary, her heart had grown thinking of having a sister. Her heart had grown thinking of the family she had always dreamt of.

Until it all came crashing down.

Before she knew it, everything had been watered. In just a few short months, her entire life had turned around. She had originally thought it for the better but then it wasn't. It became the nightmare from hell.

The dream of her mother and Clary had shattered. She would never have that relationship with her mother. She would never be her mother. She would just be Jocelyn. Fifteen years was too long, it couldn't be made up for.

Just another relationship that couldn't be salvaged.

Clary had Simon, she had Luke and her mother. Jace had Alec and Izzy, all of the Lightwoods, really.

She supposed that she had Magnus. And Declan. But Declan wouldn't last forever. She would die, he would get the urge to eat her, there were an array of ways their dalliance could end. Magnus would eventually grow bored with her.

Eliza Morgenstern would be alone. That was, she believed, the way it was always supposed to be. She didn't think she was all right with that idea.

Her phone rang, breaking her rather morbid train of thought. It was Jace. She closed her eyes before answering. "Please tell me you didn't get into another fight in a werewolf den. I'm really not in the mood."

She heard his breathy laughter. "Not exactly. Simon called. There's a situation at Luke's. Figured you'd be up for going. If not, it's fine. I'll just go alone with Magnus and Alec."

She didn't exactly want to go. She didn't want to see Clary and be reminded of the life she had missed out on. The life she had wanted. But her wants didn't get to come before the needs of being a Shadowhunter.

"I'll meet you there." She told him sharply.

"Liz. Are you…are you okay?" He asked, his words cautious and wary.

She found herself wanting to tell him everything. She wanted to cry and yell and complain about everything. She hated her life. She hated her father, she hated Jonathan, she hated everything that she had become. The life she had been forced to live.

The lies, the truth, anything and everything in between. She hated what she had done to Jace, what she had done to _them_.

Instead, she said "Fine. See you there," and hung up. With one lingering glance at the un-blossomed morning glories, she left the greenhouse, squinting tears from her eyes.

* * *

Magnus was hugging her as soon as she got to Luke's. Alec and Jace stood behind them, standing at an awkward distance from each other. Close enough to see the intense bond between them, but far enough that something felt off in their balance. Both of them were dressed in all black, both armed with seraph blades.

Magnus pulled away, holding her at arms' length. He inspected her, eyes scouring over her face. She quietly asked what was with all the affection. "I sensed you were upset. Whatever troubles you, it hurts my poor sensitive heart."

He patted her cheek softly before turning away. She grimaced, deciding against commenting on his odd behavior. Her eyes landed on Jace. He gave a tight-lipped smile but said nothing. He went into the house.

She followed him in, Magnus and Alec tailing her. Maia, the werewolf girl, was sitting on the couch, recoiled from Simon and Clary. Simon had claw marks on his cheek and Clary was wielding a knife, standing on top of the coffee table.

"What the hell is going on?" Eliza asked them.

Maia turned to look at her. "I was attacked by a demon and then I was attacked by her!" She slung a pointed finger at Clary.

"There was an incident and I handled it." Clary said pridefully.

Eliza's gaze moved over to Jace. He was already staring at her. His golden eyes were sharp. His stare shifted to Clary. "Clarissa, do you even know how to use a knife?" He asked her. "Properly, I mean."

Maia snorted. "She stabbed the couch." The werewolf girl looked sick, her cheeks a flaming red but the rest of her skin was pallid.

"She's getting worse." Simon spoke.

Magnus pushed past everyone, pushing up his sleeves. He swished his cloak back as he strutted over to Maia. He leaned over, peering down at her. "I'm Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn. And apparent doctor, though I have attained no medical license." He stood back up and flexed his fingers. Blue sparks moved between his fingers.

"You're shiny." Maia's voice was hoarse. Her eyes were dazed, unfocused as she looked back at Magnus. Magnus' fingers danced, weaving a blue wall around Maia.

Jace asked where Luke was. Simon said he was outside, moving his truck so neighbors wouldn't ask questions.

"No, he isn't." Alec said. They hadn't seen him coming in. Clary asked about his truck. Eliza's mouth felt dry and full of cotton. "It's in the driveway."

Eliza and Jace looked at each other. She swallowed. "What demon? What demon was it?" Magnus asked, his voice slightly muffled through the wall of magic he had woven. Clary said that Luke had said it was a Drevak demon.

"Pack demons." Eliza murmured. Jace said he'd go check outside for Luke. "Not alone." Eliza told him. He stared at her, eyes wide. "I'll come with you."

Clary jumped down from the table. "I want to come." She told them. Jace and Eliza immediately said no. Jace started on towards the door. Clary darted, throwing herself in front of him to block the door.

He stopped, staring down at her. "Clarissa, I will knock you over if I must." The two of them stared at each other. Clary said that Luke was her uncle, she had to go. "If he's yours, then he's ours too. But he isn't blood."

Eliza even flinched. It was cold, cold for Jace. "Clary," Eliza started carefully, "this is time sensitive. We don't have time to Mark you and you don't really have a proper weapon if there are any Drevaks still out there."

Clary moved suddenly, stabbing the knife into the wall with a ferocity that jolted even Eliza. "You've both got seraph blades?" They both said yes. "Give me one."

Eliza couldn't believe the audacity, the ignorance. Before she could say anything, Simon was speaking. "I'll go." His voice was razor wire in the room, sharper than she had ever heard him speak before. Clary tried to object but he wouldn't let her.

"Let's just all go." Jace decided, voice thin. He took one of his seraph blades and handed it to Clary. "I'm tired of arguing and I'm sure Liz has somewhere to be."

They all looked at her. "No. I don't." She glared at him. She motioned for Clary to move and she did. Eliza threw open the door and stepped out into the air.

As soon as she was out in the open, she had her sword out. The driver door to Luke's truck was wide open. "Hear that?" Jace asked. Eliza nodded. "The engine is idle. It's on."

Simon asked how he knew that. "We can hear." Eliza told him. "You should be able to as well. You just have to focus." Jace hopped down the porch stairs, Eliza following him. "I don't like this." She said quietly, glancing back at Clary who was yelling for Luke.

"Me either." He agreed. "What do you think?" He asked. "You think Valentine ordered some Drevaks to kidnap him?"

She shrugged, glancing down at her sword. "Possible, but not very likely. Valentine loathes Luke, he wouldn't go through so much trouble." Would he? Unless he wanted to kill two birds with one stone. Finally kill Luke _and_ get the werewolf blood he needed.

The area lit up. Clary had taken out her witchlight. Jace beckoned her forward and took out his Sensor. He grazed it over the grass, the device beginning to click loudly before he was even finished scanning. "It's heavy activity." He reported. "More than one demon."

Eliza looked back at Clary. "You two should go back inside. Send Alec out." She told her sister. Clary opened her mouth to argue but her head whipped to the side. Her eyes were narrowed, staring at something. Inspecting. "Look!" She pointed across the street.

Eliza turned. Something crept along by the water. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. _Demon_. Before she knew it, she was sprinting down Luke's driveway, Jace calling after her. Light from Clary's witchlight lasered around the area, shining on random spots.

She stopped just on the edge of the waterfront, staring at the scene in front of her. She knew that the crumpled heap on the ground was Luke. Two figures hovered over him. One shifted and she saw the discolor of Luke's face.

"Raum demons." Jace was standing beside her then, his shoulder brushing against hers. "We're in worse than we thought." Simon asked if they were the same kind of demon that had attacked Maia. "Worse. A lot worse." Jace told him. He looked back at Simon and Clary. "Stay back and let me and Liz handle this. Please." He gestured for them to stand back. "Ready?" He asked Eliza, staring back at her.

She spun her sword in her hand. "Always."

He named his seraph blade " _Israfiel!_ " and lunged forward. The light of his seraph blade caught the closest of the two Raum demons and she felt her stomach churn at the unseemly sight. They were uglier than most demons, white and scaly, a black hole of a mouth, eyes that bulged like a frog's, and tentacled arms.

Jace's seraph blade slashed through the air, cutting off the demon's arm and it flew across the air. Eliza took the other, her sword grazing the demon's face. She heard it hiss as the sword touched it. As she looked over, she saw that Jace had forced the other demon to the ground, but they were dancing dangerously close to the river. If he wasn't careful, he was going to get hurt or fall in the water.

Against her better judgement, she moved. She dodged the whip of a tentacle, shearing one off with her sword. The demon made a guttural and high noise, whipping at her with another tentacle. She half-tossed her sword aside and dropped, somersaulting out of the way of the demon. Crouching, she slipped out a knife from her wrist and threw it straight forward.

It claimed its mark, landing in the eye of Jace's demon. She jumped to her feet, dashing forward. She swiped her sword up from the ground and kept running. Jace's demon swung a tentacle at her and she slid to the ground, slashing her sword across the bottom of the demon.

She heard Simon shout for Clary but couldn't tear her focus away from the demon at hand. She heard Clary's scream and turned on instinct. The second demon had knocked Clary to the ground and had wrapped two tentacles around her, one on her arm and the other on her throat.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Something snaked around her own throat, cold, slimy, and scaly.

"Liz!"

She slipped her second knife from the other brace and jammed it into the tentacle of the demon. It went lax, dropping from her throat. She yanked the knife out and tightened her grip on her sword. She forced the sword backward and felt it stick into something.

The demon howled as she yanked the sword out of its body. She saw the light from Clary's seraph blade and heard Clary name it. She watched as the demon fell away in front of Clary, almost tripping backwards to get away. And then, it jumped into the water.

Eliza looked behind her. The other demon was gone. Whether she had successfully killed it or it had run like the other, she wasn't sure. Jace was grabbing her, inspecting her neck. "I'm fine." She assured him. She was fine, she was sure. It hadn't bit her or started to squeeze enough to make her lose any air.

His eyes, bright gold and flecked with honeyed spots, scoured over her face. His mouth was drawn in a tight line. Black ichor dotted his face. "You did good." Was all he said. He backed away from her and went to Clary, asking what happened. Clary said she wasn't sure, and that the demon had just, run away or something. Almost like it was scared of something.

"Luke!" Clary shouted. She took off to him, kneeling at his side. Eliza walked over and leaned down. He wasn't conscious, but at least he was still breathing. His shirt was covered in blood. She got to her knees and drew back the fabric where it was torn across his shoulder. There were several red circles on his shoulder, marks where the Raum demons had latched on and suckled out blood. Blood still oozed from them, mixed in with some sort of gross looking black liquid.

"Magnus is going to have to treat him." She decided. Jace and Simon picked his limp body up, carrying him back to the porch. Magnus was waiting there for them. "The Raum demons got to him. One of them got away." She told the warlock.

They put Luke on the sofa where Maia had once been. Alec said that they moved her to Luke's room after Magnus had healed her. Clary asked Magnus if Luke would be okay. Magnus' fingers sparked blue and he set off to work. "He'll live." He told her. "Nothing I can't handle. Step back and let me work."

Clary fell into the armchair. Jace and Alec moved to the window and were talking quietly. Simon was standing near the kitchen, leaned against the wall.

Jace motioned her over and she went quietly. He asked her to tell Alec what she had seen with the demons. "I don't really know." She admitted. "The one that attacked Clary, when she went to fight back, it just retreated. It ran off and jumped into the river." She told Alec. "They were fighting, but not up to par. It was almost like they were holding back. The other one got a tentacle around my neck, but it didn't choke me or latch to bite. Something isn't right."

Clary's voice drew them away from their conversation. Magnus was telling her that Luke would be all right. "I'm not a doctor. I'm a High Warlock and as such, I have obligations to other clients and to myself. You could find many lesser warlocks who would do your healings for you at much cheaper rates than I."

Clary looked stunned. "Are you charging us? For helping a friend?"

He said yes. "Luke is your friend. Not mine. I am kind, but not enough to always work for free. Did you think I was just doing this to be overly kind or am I truly the only warlock you know?" He asked, taking out a blue cigarette. He lit it.

Jace looked greatly bored, staring back at Magnus with a dull look on his face. "Well, you're the only warlock we know who's dating our friend."

Eliza felt like the wind was knocked out of her. Alec's face had paled. Magnus looked, well, he looked pissed off. Clary and Simon's jaws should have been on the floor. Eliza looked at Alec. She was sure that the only people in the room who knew about Alec being gay were her and Clary. Well, and Magnus but she never would have spoken on it aloud.

"Jace, why would you say that?" Alec's voice shook. She wasn't sure if it was fear or anger or both. She had never heard him speak in such a manner. Jace asked what he was talking about. "That Magnus and I-that we-that I- it isn't true. It's not." Alec forced the words out of his mouth. His words came unevenly and fast paced.

Jace stared back at him, a perplexed look on his face. The corner of his mouth twitched, and she dared him to smile. If he smiled, it would go one of two ways. It could be a good smile, blessing and kind. Or it could be a bad smile, one of those sick and twisted anger filled smiles he loved to wear. "Now, I never said he was dating you, Alec." Jace spoke slowly. "Yet, you knew exactly what I meant."

Alec insisted that they weren't dating. Magnus glared at him, his yellow cat-like eyes furious. "You get that friendly with everyone, then?" Magnus asked lowly.

Alec's blue eyes widened as he looked back at Magnus. Magnus crossed his arms over his chest, a cross expression on his face. Hell was unfolding in Luke's living room. Alec looked back at Jace, shaking his head. "You can't really think that-."

Jace frowned at him. "Alec, you went through ridiculous lengths to hide your relationship with Magnus from everyone, even me. You act like I would be upset if I knew." Alec's face had turned a funny gray color. "Magnus, help me convince him that I don't care."

"Alec." Eliza finally spoke. She hadn't really meant to, but she was afraid of what would happen if she didn't. Alec looked at her, eyes pleading her for help. To do something. Say something. Anything.

"He believes that you wouldn't care about us being together." Magnus said plainly.

Jace looked between Magnus and Alec. He looked at Eliza. Then, his eyes settled on Alec again. "Jace, that's enough." Eliza told him. "Let it go." She warned. She moved, placing herself between Alec and Jace.

"Let what go?" Someone said. Everyone turned their heads. Luke was sitting up on the couch, his face drawn together in pain. Clary darted to the side of the couch.

Eliza put her hand on Alec's wrist. "Alec." She said his name quietly. "Are you all right?"

He blinked a few times, color slowly returning to his face. "I'm not sure." He pushed her hand off his wrist and turned away.

* * *

They were staying at Luke's. Magnus had decided he wanted to keep an eye on Luke and Maia, just to be sure. He didn't want to have to travel back.

Clary retired to go to bed after Simon had left. She sensed something had happened between the two of them, but she didn't want to intrude by asking. If Clary wanted to talk, she would. Jace sat at the piano, eyes indulging in the sheet music. Luke was going to let Maia have his room and he was going to sleep on the couch for the night.

After several tries, Eliza caught Magnus' eye. She waved him into the kitchen, and he followed her. "What you did for Alec, it was nice of you." She said quietly. She didn't want anyone to hear, especially not Jace.

"I don't know what you're talking about, little dove." His words were not as strong as he wanted them to be, she was sure. He really did care for Alec, maybe more than Alec cared for him.

They both knew why. It seemed that maybe, after Jace's little stunt, everyone knew why Alec's affection for Magnus seemed so limited. Alec was still in love with Jace.

She empathized with Alec on a level she didn't quite want to. Once you loved Jace, it was hard to stop. He didn't make it easy, loving him, but it wasn't hard either. To be so intimately close to him, to see behind the great walls he built, it was to love him. To love him so fiercely it felt as if your heart were going to break just looking at him.

Jace was not something you could just quit.

She looked at Magnus, the fractured pain behind all of his glitter and magic. It couldn't be pleasant, loving someone who loved another. Was that how Declan felt? Surely not.

As far as he knew, Jace and Eliza were brother and sister. Well, everyone knew that. But Declan didn't know about before Valentine. He didn't know what Eliza had done to Jace. He didn't know that they had loved each other the way brothers and sisters weren't supposed to.

Everyone else thought it had been an act, her grand performance in tricking them into trusting her. Her only way of slipping through Valentine's grasp. An act. A lie.

She would try harder, she decided. She never wanted Declan to feel the way Magnus felt. She liked him, she really liked him. Maybe there wasn't a promising future with him, but that wasn't reason enough to not try to make a good thing work. And Declan, he was a great thing.

"Give him time." She told Magnus. "Just a little more time."

Maybe she needed time, too.

* * *

She didn't know what time it was when Jace was stirring her awake. She had fallen asleep at the kitchen table, just wanting to rest her eyes for a few moments.

"Liz. Come on." His voice was insistent. There was somewhere to be.

She rubbed her eyes, looking up at him. "Where?" He didn't say, she just had to go with him. She got up from the table, running her hand through her hair and scratching her scalp.

He led her to the porch, closely the door soundlessly. There was a motorcycle on Luke's front lawn, idling. Just sitting there. It was a nice bike, veiny pipes that roped like vines. Interesting to look at but pleasing to the eye altogether. She followed him down the steps.

Raphael was standing by the bike, eyeing them. He wore a brown leather jacket, face curtained by brown curls. Raphael meant that the bike was a demon energy one. It would only work in the night time.

"I brought you the bike. Just liked you asked." Raphael said to Jace. She stared, bewildered. Jace had asked _Raphael_ for the bike? Had she fallen asleep and woken up in an alternate timeline? "Though," Raphael started, "I cannot imagine why you would want a demon energy motorcycle. I heard you had one already."

Jace nodded thoughtfully, inspecting the bike. "It's inaccessible at the moment."

Raphael smiled. "So, we all three are unwelcome at your Institute then?" Jace asked if the vampires were still being accused of the recent murders. Raphael's face twisted. "I have told them time and time again that we do not drink the blood of warlocks. It is bitter, almost sour." He looked at Eliza. "Much like yours."

Her hand twitched and she forced herself still. "Gee, thanks." She muttered.

Raphael put his hands up. "I mean no insult, you are a beautiful woman, but your blood is vile." He looked back at Jace. Jace asked if he had told Maryse what he had just told them. "Ha. I could not speak with the woman if I so wished it. It seems that all decisions are now made through the Inquisitor." Eliza's lip curled. "It is all very bad."

Jace nodded. "Don't think we're friends. I only kept Simon's incident a secret because I needed your help. Don't forget that you almost killed my sister."

Raphael's eyes sparkled. "Your sister, right." He smiled slyly at them. "My apologies. Declan is not pleased at that incident either."

Jace cleared his throat before she could say anything in response. "There's only a few hours until sunrise. We've got to go and so do you." He told Raphael. Raphael asked if they were giving him a ride home and Jace said no curtly. Jace climbed on the bike and gestured for her to do the same.

She got on, sitting behind him. She sat awkwardly, unsure of where to put her arms. "Are we even for Simon now?" Raphael asked them. Jace said no, they never would be. He started the bike and it revved to life.

She put her arms around his waist and it took off into the night air.

* * *

The wind whipped cold against her face, stealing through the thin material of her shirt. Goosebumps rose on her skin and she drew closer to Jace, pressing her face against the middle of his back.

The world seemed dead in the air. Color had drained quickly once night set in. It was all gray and black and navy. The river was below them, water rippling over itself again and again.

She hadn't been on a bike since the night Simon got turned into a rat. The night that had begun his descent into the world of the damned. That night, she had flown her own bike. The free feeling had surprised her, wind whipping her hair back from her face and the feeling of just being in the air. Now, she sat on the back of a bike, clutching to Jace for dear life.

In the distance, she saw a ship. It wasn't large, but it definitely wasn't small either. It was black, nearly impossible to see in the night. She felt the bike shift and start to descend. Was the ship their destination?

The question did not go unanswered long. Jace landed the bike on the deck of the ship gracefully. She peeled her arms away and Jace got off the bike. He helped her off.

"What are we doing here?" She asked him, looking around.

He had a pained expression on his face. "I can't tell you. You just have to trust me. Can you do that?"

She wrung her hands together in front of her. Something about the ship didn't feel right. They weren't supposed to be there. "I can try." She mumbled.

The whole ship was black. Every single thing that could have been colorized was black. Jace started a circuit around the deck and she followed him. Curiosity of their mission consumed her. Why were they there? What could Jace possibly want on a ship?

They stopped at the bow of the ship. Water lapped against the ship; the river spread out before them. Manhattan on one side, Long Island on the other. She pushed her hair behind her ears, a piece immediately falling stray. She would never cut her hair again.

Jace stared out at the water, his face drawn in intent. She frowned, turning away from him. Her eyes found a door carved into the wall of the cabin, nestled between two blacked windows. "There's a door." She told Jace. "Do you want to go see what's inside?"

He stood at her side, not saying anything before stepping forward. He tried the door, but it was locked. He took out his stele and went to work carving Opening runes into the metal. He tried again and the door swung open. It made an awful screeching noise as it did, and she wondered how long it had been shut.

A stairwell loomed in front of them. Jace grabbed her hand and she didn't pull away. Together, they stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind them, darkness encasing them.

Jace cursed and took out his witchlight. The inside of wherever they were was much colder than the deck of the ship had been. The witchlight stone shone in the darkness, granting them light.

Her hand slipped from Jace's as she saw what was in front of them. Jonathan. Pale white hair against pale skin. Silver scars glistened against his skin and black Marks shouted against in contrast. He was smiling and she felt sick to her stomach. She tried to reach for Jace again but she couldn't find his hand.

"Jonathan?" Her voice was barely a whisper, yet it echoed in the room. How was he here? _Why_ was he here? Valentine had Jace, Jonathan wasn't needed. Not yet, anyways. Jonathan meant bad news.

She stepped towards him and the light scattered. Something on the floor caught her eye. She looked down at the mass on the floor. _Jace_. She looked at Jonathan. Blood covered his hands, splattered across his face and shirt.

Her heart constricted.

She fell to her knees and grabbed Jace's shoulders, turning him over. His white shirt was soaked in blood. Her hands clawed at the material, ripping it away. Blood pumped and pumped from his chest, but she couldn't find the source. "No, no, no." She cried. "Jace, please, no." Her hand traveled to his face, a trail of blood marking his cheek. His eyes were not tawny gold, they were white, opaque and dead.

"You made me do it." Jonathan said. But it wasn't Jonathan's voice. There was something darker to it, something more evil than he ever could have been.

She pressed her forehead against his just as the darkness washed over her.

* * *

The soft howl of the wind brought her back to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open. Stars scattered across the night sky, twinkling as if they were winking at her.

"Lizzie?" Jace's voice startled her.

She looked over. He was sitting up, looking down at her. Alive. _Alive_. She sat up. Had it been a dream?

"I told you she would be all right." A voice said.

She froze, her breath catching. Her eyes traveled away from Jace to the man near them. Tall, broad-shouldered, fierce, sitting on a stack of flat boxes.

Valentine.

Her father.


	19. Chapter 19

He was dressed impeccably, wearing a fitted gray suit and a matching tie. "How did you find me?" He asked.

She wanted to hit Jace, to punch him so hard she broke either his nose or his jaw. Maybe even knocked out a tooth or two. It had been by his deliberation that they sat in front of Valentine. It was his doing. Being on the ship was not by chance.

"You told me where the heart of the Raum demon is." Jace replied. "I threatened one you sent to Luke's and it told me most of what I needed to know." Oh, she was so going to kill him. "It said you summoned it and it had come from a ship that was on the river."

Valentine looked proud of him for torturing a demon. He leaned forward closer to them. "You should call next time you want to drop by. It would save you the trouble of dealing with my guards."

What guards? They hadn't run into….demons. He meant demons. Whatever monstrous creature of hell he had summoned had been the one to show her that awful hallucination of Jace in the stairwell.

"You're summoning demons with Maellartach." She stated.

He said yes. "Those werewolves decimated my army of Forsaken. I didn't have the time to create another. Demons are quicker to summon now that I have the Mortal Sword."

She swallowed. Even after years of training herself against it, her hands still shook in his presence. The scars on her back burned. "What was the demon in the stairwell?" Jace asked. "Eliza was right next to me and then…then she wasn't."

She felt his eyes on her but forced herself to stare straight ahead. She focused on the strips of water she could see through the railing. "You saw Eliza?" Valentine asked, his voice stringent.

"Why wouldn't I?" Jace asked simply.

Valentine leaned back, clasping his hands in front of him. "It was Agramon, the Demon of Fear." He told them. "It takes the form of your greatest terror and then it feeds off it, then it kills you if you live beyond your fear." Agramon? Agramon, much like Abbadon, was a Greater Demon. Where was Valentine finding so many Greater Demons? "Both of you are incredibly strong for lasting as long as you did."

Her mouth felt dry and too small. She couldn't escape the image of Jace lying on the ground, bleeding out and Jonathan standing above him, admitting to the crime. What had Jace seen of her? What picture of her could strike deadly terror in his heart?

"How did you come to acquire a Greater Demon?" Jace questioned.

Valentine shrugged. "I paid a very young and very proud warlock to summon it. How very misfortunate he was though, since his greatest fear was that the demon would break his pentagram and attack him." Jace asked if that was how the warlock died.

"Were you planning on using him for the Ritual of Infernal Conversation?" Eliza interrupted. "Or was he just collateral damage along the way?" She demanded.

Valentine looked mildly impressed. He had never looked at her that way before. "You've been busy. I assume this means that you know the purpose of the Raum demons?"

Both she and Jace said yes. "You wanted Maia's blood for the Ritual. She's young and she's a werewolf." Jace told him.

Valentine nodded. He said he had sent the Drevaks to report anything of interest at Luke's-he never referred to him as Luke, always Lucian- and one of them had told him about Maia. "You wanted to hurt him." Eliza said. He asked what she meant. "Maia and Luke are close and you needed the blood anyways. Why not get the blood and hurt Luke at the same time, right?"

She saw the anger light in his eyes. He smiled, a smile unlike one he would have given Jace or Jonathan. They were his boys, his pride and joy. Jonathan, his protégé, his apprentice. Jace, defiant, soft, but his. Just their being there meant Jace was still his.

"You never fail to surprise me, my girl." He stood up, brushing off his pants. He held his hand out to Jace and helped him to his feet. He moved to help Eliza but Jace stood in front of him and helped her himself. Valentine gave him a perplexed look, but said nothing. "Let's walk. I want to show the two of you something."

Show them something? Surely he wouldn't show her anything of importance. He didn't trust her, he had no reason to. Valentine took out his stele and offered to heal them. "We're fine." Jace said, drawing away.

Valentine said nothing as he began to walk. Jace and Eliza shared a look, but began to follow him. Valentine walked with the air of grace. His hands were clasped behind his back and he stood tall. He never turned to see if they followed; he knew they would. Or rather, he knew Jace would follow and Eliza would not leave him alone.

"Both of you are familiar with _Paradise Lost_? By Milton?" He asked them.

Jace said yes, he had only made him read through it several times. Eliza replied that she had read it once or twice. "Something about it being better to reign in hell than serve in heaven?" Jace asked.

Valentine nodded once. " _Non serviam_." _I will not serve_. "Lucifer had printed the words on his banner when he rebelled against the host of Heaven".

"Are you playing devil's advocate or are you the devil in this situation?" Eliza asked him. They were drawing close to the front of the ship. Her father walked slowly to the guardrails and leaned against them. Jace joined him at his side and glanced back at Eliza. His face was drawn together as if there were something he wanted to say.

She looked out at the city as they passed through it. Manhattan was beautiful at night, lights shimmering through the dusty sky. Nothing like Alicante but just as beautiful in its own way. Alicante had the regality of fantasy, glistening glass towers and rolling green hills. Manhattan was industrial, metal skyscrapers and crowded streets.

Valentine asked why they had come, specifically why Jace had come. There was no question as to why she was there, but a thousand for Jace. "I had given up on you. Both of you, after leaving you in the Silent City. I thought you were lost forever."

"We spoke to the Seelie Queen." Jace replied. The tone in his voice let her know exactly why he had sought out Valentine. The Seelie Queen had planted some seed of curiosity in him with her comment about their blood. Granted, Eliza had also wondered what she meant but not enough to seek out her father. "She wanted us to ask you about our blood. Specifically, what kind of blood it is."

She saw the look of surprise cross Valentine's face. "The Seelie Queen." He spoke slowly. "You spoke directly with her?"

Eliza said yes. "A few days ago. She's a delight." She said dryly. "She referred to us as your 'little experiments.' Any idea what she meant by that?"

Her father stared at her. She didn't think he had actually ever looked at her. He had raised her, made her his weapon, forced her to make her life a lie. There was Jonathan, the one who did everything right. Living in his shadow was cold.

In over seventeen years, she knew that her father had never truly seen her.

"Her words should not trouble you. I thought you were smart enough to remember that the Fair Folk speak riddles. You'll do well to tell the Seelie Queen that the Angel's blood is your blood."

Jace replied that Raziel's blood ran through the veins of all Shadowhunters. "You wouldn't lie to the Seelie Queen. Right?"

Valentine gave him an exasperated look. "Would you come all the way here just to ask one question? Would you drag your sister to the place you know she least wants to be just for one question?"

Jace glanced over at Eliza and their eyes met. His face softened as he realized what he had done. As much as she hated Valentine, Jace knew that she was still afraid of him. And he had brought her there, delivering her to the slaughterhouse like a pig.

"No. I-There was someone I needed to talk to." Jace managed to spit out. "I'm not good. For anyone. Not the Lightwoods or Luke or Clary. Not for anyone." Her heart clenched at the pain in his words.

"What about Eliza?" Her father asked. "Surely if you aren't good for anyone else, then you aren't good for her either."

Eliza looked at Jace. He was staring down at his boots, the way an embarrassed child would. When he rose his head, he avoided her gaze. "I need you to tell me why." Valentine told him to be more specific. "Why take the Sword and kill the Silent Brothers?" His words came to a sudden halt, as if he had more to say but no time to say it. Or maybe not enough courage.

Valentine put his hands in front of him, clasping them together. "The Clave is corrupt and must be eliminated. Idris must be rectified. Earth must be made clean from demons."

Made clean from demons? She snorted. "You cannot preach about cleansing demons from the world, and then continue to call them to you and use them for your bidding." Eliza told him. "You've made servants of Greater Demons like Agramon and Abbadon and those of much lower status." She glanced around. "Your actions do not match your words."

He nodded wordlessly, eyes settled on her. "Your mind has never ceased to amaze me, always working and observing. I must tell you that a patriot does not ever have to agree with his government. A patriot, a true man of that stature, must rise up, he must recognize and make known his strong love of his country and beliefs. No matter what, I shall always be Nephilim."

She looked over at Jace. His sights were set on the water of the river, his jaw locked firmly.

"Jonathan, is that how you feel?" Valentine asked quietly.

Jace looked up quickly. "Yes. Forever, I will be what you have made me."

Valentine smiled, clapping him on the back. "Exactly what I wanted to hear." He pulled away to lean against the railing and look up at the sky. "I have started a war, children. What side will you choose?"

When he looked back at them, he was staring at Eliza. "We are all on the same side. The side against demons." Jace stated.

"That isn't what he meant." Eliza told him quietly. Jace looked over at her, his eyebrows knitted together. She wondered when he would understand that this wasn't a game. That Valentine was not the father he remembered, not the one he wanted. The world wasn't what Jace wanted it to be. "He wants to know if you're going to choose him or the Clave."

 _Him or me_ , she wanted to say. She would not, she could not, follow him to Valentine. No matter how much she loved him, she would never return to her father.

"Son, why would I fight against the Clave if I truly believed they were doing the best they could?" Valentine asked him. Jace didn't say anything. "The Clave is weak and the demons can sense that. The Clave is continuously preoccupied by the degenerate races and will fall at the attack of the demons."

 _Degenerate races._ She knew exactly what he meant. The Downworlders. Werewolves like Luke and Maia and their pack. Warlocks like Magnus. Vampires like Simon. And Declan. She bit down on her lip, looking up at the sky. She didn't know for sure if her father knew about him or not, but she could only assume that he did. And if he did, that meant that Declan wasn't safe.

"Not Luke." Jace struggled to say.

Valentine gave a thoughtful nod, but not such a reassuring one. "Lucian was once a Shadowhunter. But, this is not about the Downworlders. This is about the world and its survival. We, the Nephilim, were created for a reason. We were chosen to be the best and to save the world. We must save the world from its end, no matter what it costs to us."

No matter the cost. She swallowed, glancing at Jace. The look on his face, the way he stared at Valentine…It unsettled her. He would be the end of them. More importantly, most importantly, he would be the end of Jace.

If she didn't yank Jace from his grasp, make him see reason, Valentine would be the death of him.

"Do you plan to send the demons against the Clave?" Jace asked him. Valentine did not hesitate before he said yes.

That was when she knew that he thought he had Jace exactly where he wanted him. He could tell him anything, trust him with whatever. Jace was his. Which meant, she was his. She would go wherever Jace went.

He could reveal his entire plan and it wouldn't matter.

"The Clave has proven that they will not see reason. Even with the Cup, even by creating an entirely new army of Shadowhunters, I do not have the time I would require. No one has that time. I can use the Sword to call an army of demons, an army completely compliant to my orders. Once I am finished with them, I will order them to destroy themselves and they will have no choice but to do it." Valentine explained. There was a sense of finality in his voice, the kind that brought the sense that this was what he had worked towards his entire life. This was the goal he had always worked for and he could see it there in the distance. It was close enough for him to see, almost enough to touch.

"What you're talking about…it's genocide. You can't kill every single Shadowhunter." Jace told him.

Valentine shook his head. "I know that. And I won't. The Clave will surrender." He sounded sure of this. "There are those who support me, those who will choose the right side when the time comes."

Eliza raised her eyebrows. There was no way he had supporters in the Clave. "They hate you. You don't have as many supporters as you believe you do."

Valentine's hand went to the hilt of the Angel's Sword on his waist. She wanted to take it and thrust it through his heart. He drew the Sword, the metal of the blade glittered dully.

Eliza drew in a slow breath. Maellartach was the most glorious of all Nephilim weapons. The silver of the blade was darker than any other Shadowhunter blades. In the middle of the hilt was a fiery engraved rose. The perfect weapon to kill her father.

"Here." Valentine offered it to Jace. "Hold it." He held it out, hilt facing Jace. It was the same way he had taught her to hand a sword to someone. All Jace would have to do would be to shove the hilt and the blade would go right through his chest. Jace began to object but Valentine thrust the sword into his hand.

She watched the way the sword lit up in his hands. Her eyes narrowed and she looked at her father. Valentine's face was blank. Jace's head jerked up to the sky. He jerked, his body bending over the railing of the ship.

"Jace?" She called to him.

The Sword clattered to the deck of the ship, the sound ringing her ears. She started towards Jace but Valentine grabbed her by the bicep, stopping her in her tracks. She set her jaw, glaring up at him. She jerked away and went to Jace's side.

She put her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "Hey, look at me." She whispered. He opened his eyes, dark tawny. She pushed his hair from his face. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He looked past her, his wild gaze focused on Valentine. "What was that I saw? Are those all of the demons you've called?"

She looked at her father, not dropping her hands from Jace's face. Valentine picked the sword up and sheathed it. "No, what you saw are the demons that have been drawn to our world. Here, where we are now, the lines between dimensions are thin. They wait for me to call them to my army." He looked at Eliza, his dark eyes hard. "The Clave _will_ resign."

She wanted to take the Sword, to see what Jace had seen. "The Lightwoods won't. Not again." She told him.

The look he gave her was fierce. "Your brother will convince them." His words brought chills to her skin. She knew exactly who he meant and it wasn't Jace. Wherever Jonathan was, it wasn't too far from them.

"I don't want anything to happen to them." Jace murmured. "Not after all I've done already."

She knew him, better than anyone. Jace would do anything to protect the people he loved. He would sacrifice anything, everything, even himself.

"I know, my son. I understand." Valentine said softly. She looked between the two of them, a man and the son he had fostered. She knew he cared about Jace, maybe even loved him. He had spent more quality time with Jace than he had probably ever even thought about with Jonathan and herself. She wasn't jealous of Jace for that, she pitied him. She knew how much it was to try and please him, the be the perfect child. She pitied the connection they had. It would hurt Jace more when Valentine ripped it apart.

"Everything is my fault." Jace told him. "All of the pain and the hurt they've suffered. It's all because of me."

Eliza frowned. "No, it isn't." She assured him, making him look at her again. "None of this burden is yours to bear." It was hers. Valentine's. Not Jace's, never his.

"But it is." Valentine told them. Both of them snapped to stare at him. Eliza's mouth fell open in shock. "You and I are similar, my son. We both poison and destroy everything we love." Her hands fell from Jace's face to her side. "It is not without reason." Jace asked what reasoning there could be. "The two of us are meant for a higher order, Jonathan. When we become distracted by the vices of the world, we are punished as so."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "If the punishment is meant for us, then why does it affect the ones we love?" Jace asked.

"No one ever said fate was fair." Valentine replied easily. "You cannot struggle against the current without dooming yourself and others. You must swim with the current to survive." Jace glanced at Eliza. He opened his mouth but Valentine spoke before he could. "Don't worry, son. I will never let anything harm your sister so long as you join me. I would give my life for hers."

 _Bullshit,_ Eliza thought. She knew better. He would let her die. If she died, Jace would be undeniably his. Pliant and easily controlled.

"I'll take her to Idris and she will be safe there." Valentine continued. Translated: the real Jonathan will take care of her. For good. "All of your friends will be under my protection, Jonathan. This I promise you. I assure you that joining me is the only way to save them."

She watched him close his eyes. She turned her attention to Valentine. His face was pleasant, his dark eyes bright. He wanted Jace to say yes, he expected it. Their eyes met. He had that triumphant look on his face. He had won. They both knew it.

"Jonathan, have you made your decision?"

She saw Jace open his eyes. His eyes slid over to her and he didn't even need to speak for her to know his answer. The look on his face said everything: _I'm sorry_.

"Yes, I have, Father."

* * *

She felt wrong. She felt off.

She didn't sleep that night. Instead, she paced her room at Magnus', biting down on her fingernails as her thoughts ran rampant. Chairman Meow had given up on her around three in the morning, abandoning her room to find somewhere that wasn't inhabited by a pacing madwoman.

Alec had retrieved her from her room around eight to get breakfast and go back to Luke's. They and Jace stopped by a coffee shop and got coffee and donuts.

Jace looked ragged. The circles under his eyes were greyish, but his body was tense as ever. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since returning from the ship. She could have easily cut through the tension between them with a plastic butter knife.

When they walked into Luke's, the scene was drastic. Maia was crying on the couch. Magnus was fresh from the shower, his un-styled hair at his shoulders. Luke was sitting on the couch next to Maia. Clary was standing near Magnus, a distressed look on his face.

"Glad to see everyone is in good spirits." Jace quipped. Maia muttered something about crying in front of Shadowhunters. "Go to another room then. We need to talk anyways." He told her.

Maia stood up from the couch and stormed out of the room. "We aren't talking." Clary told him.

Jace sat down at the piano and began to stretch his limbs. "Soon enough." He responded. "Magnus is about to start yelling at me." He looked at the warlock.

Magnus agreed with him, promptly looking away from Alec. "I explicitly remember telling you to stay in the house. Where the hell did you go?" Clary asked why Jace was able to get away if he had to be where Magnus was. "My magic was depleted after last night's incidents. My resources are not infinite." He turned back to Jace. "You swore to stay in the house. Those nasty little Shadowhunter vows aren't worth much, I see."

Jace shrugged. "I didn't swear by the Angel. That's the only oath with any sort of meaning." He reminded Magnus.

"He isn't wrong." Alec agreed half-heartedly.

Jace reached over and picked up a full coffee mug. He took a long sip and his face contorted. "Are you going to tell me where you were or not?" Magnus asked Jace. "Were you with Alec?"

Eliza snorted. Jace narrowed his eyes at her before looking back at Magnus. "I went for a walk. Couldn't sleep. I got back this morning and saw Alec hanging around the porch."

Magnus looked at Alec. "Did you sleep on the porch?" Alec said no. He had gone home and come back that morning." Eliza frowned. Alec seemed to be wearing the exact same outfit combination as the previous day: a dark sweater and jeans.

Clary asked what was in the box in Alec's hands. Alec opened it, displaying donuts. "Anybody hungry?" He asked.

Everyone, actually, was hungry. Jace, overzealous as always, took two and ate them quickly. Luke sat up. "I'm confused about something." Luke told them. Jace asked what that was. "The three of you," he pointed at Jace, Clary, and Eliza, "came out after me when I didn't come back to the house." Clary told him that Simon went as well. "Right. Whatever. There were four of you and none of you killed either of the Raum demons?"

She stifled at the thought of both of the demons still running around. "The one that attacked Clary ran back into the water. I didn't see what happened to one Jace was fighting." Eliza told him. "I got it pretty good with my sword, though."

Magnus whistled. "It didn't get far, then. The sword has the blood of a Prince of Hell in it. It can be quite painful to other demonic creatures, potentially fatal even."

Their eyes met. She had never told anyone else about the nature of her sword. "The blood of a Prince of Hell?" Luke asked. She said yes. "Which one?"

"Lucifer." She said stiffly. "My father's doing. The reasoning, I couldn't tell you. I have never understood the workings of his mind."

"Do you think they ran because they felt outnumbered? I mean, four of you and only two of them." Alec suggested.

Magnus said no. "The only two out there with any chance of successfully fighting were Eliza and Jace. A new vampire and an untrained Shadowhunter were no threat to them." He explained.

Eliza stifled a yawn, rubbing her eyes. Her hours of endless pacing were catching up with her. "It was me, I think." Clary said. She raised her arm, showing them a Mark. "This, anyways." Eliza moved closer to her sister, grabbing her arm. She inspected the Mark.

She looked back at the others. "I've never seen this Mark before." She told them. "It isn't in the Gray Book." She had read through the entire book at least twice and had never seen it once. Clary said she wasn't sure what the Mark meant.

"Liz, all of our runes are in the Gray Book. That's where we get them from." Jace reminded her.

She was about to reply with a smart-ass comment, but Clary's spoke first. "I saw it in a dream." She said.

Eliza dropped her arm. "What does that even mean?" Jace asked fiercely. His face was tinted red, his mouth drawn in an angry frown.

Clary licked her bottom lip. "When we were in the Seelie Court-," Eliza peeked at Jace to see that he was staring right at her, "the Seelie Queen called us 'experiments', remember?"

"Vaguely." Eliza muttered. Her father had dismissed the claim last night, but she knew better than to believe him. She wasn't sure what the Seelie Queen had meant when she called them experiments and she didn't know if she wanted to find out.

"She said that Valentine did things to us." Clary reminded them. "He wanted to make sure that we were different, that we were special." Eliza looked at Magnus. He wore a worried expression on his face. "She said that mine was a gift of words unspoken, Jace's was of the Angel and yours, Eliza, yours was Edom itself."

"Lies." Jace wrote it off.

Eliza shook her head. "The fey don't lie." She said. He told her that they could be lied to. He had that look in his eyes, the argumentative one. And she was in the mood to argue. " _He_ did something to us. You know that he did. Look at what he did to our grandparents and to the real Michael Wayland and his son and tell me that you honestly believe he was above experimenting on his own children?" Her words shot out the same way she threw knives at a target.

"Words unspoken, she meant runes." Clary started again, giving Eliza an unsure look. "We don't speak them, we draw them." Jace's expression was anything but agreeable. He looked like he was seriously considering suggesting therapy. Clary gave up on him, turning to Eliza. "When we rescued the two of you from the Silent City, I only used a basic Opening rune to get into your cell."

A basic Opening rune? The cell door had all but imploded on itself, ripping off the hinges. "Are you sure that's all it was?" Alec asked. "It looked like a Forsaken had gotten ahold of the door by the time I got down there."

Clary nodded. "But it didn't just unlock the door to the cell. It unlocked Jace and Eliza's manacles, too. I think the Seelie Queen meant that the runes I draw are more powerful and I could maybe even create new ones." Jace said no one could make new runes.

"Was this before or after she made you make out with your brother?" Magnus inquired. Everyone's heads snapped up. Luke looked like he was going to be sick and Alec seemed as if he had already swallowed his vomit. Jace looked pissed as ever.

"Magnus!" Eliza hissed. He shrugged, half-heartedly saying it was a legitimate question.

"How do you know that?" Jace growled.

Eliza bit down on her lip. "It's my fault." She admitted. "The link between us is stronger when my-." She stopped herself before she could finish her sentence. She didn't need everyone to know what she felt, how she felt. They were supposed to believe Jace was her brother.

"It could be true." Alec said thoughtfully. Eliza was surprised that Alec was so quick to agree with Clary. It was no surprise that Alec wasn't her biggest fan.

Luke agreed. "Go get your sketchbook." For a few moments, Clary and Luke just stared back at each other. As close as they were, Eliza assumed that they had some sort of unspoken language between them. They could communicate with looks only. Clary said she would be back and disappeared into the kitchen.

As her gaze traveled the room, she noticed Jace was staring at her. He nodded his head towards the front door, proceeding to walk outside. She gave the room a quick look around and then followed him out.

He was leaned against the railing of the porch, arms crossed over his chest and head ducked down. "Why did you leave last night?" He looked up, tawny eyes vulnerable and wide. His curls fell into his face.

Was he serious? He had to be joking. "Do you not understand what you did, Jace?" She asked him. "You asked me to trust you and I did. I've always trusted you, more than anyone else. And last night, you broke it."

He stood straight, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Liz-."

"Don't 'Liz' me, Jace!" She yelled. She heard the inside of the house still. She stepped off the porch, walking a little way down the drive and beckoning Jace to follow her. "How could you do that?" She asked quietly. Hot tears sprung in her eyes. She squeezed them shut to keep them from falling. When she opened them, the tears rolled down her cheeks. "How could you take me there, to him? Jace, you know…You know what he did to me. And then you looked me in the eye and you took his side. After everything, all he's done and all we've been through." She shook her head, looking down at the ground.

"He's my father, Liz. You don't understand." He said softly.

Her face was hot. She squeezed her hands into fists at her sides, so tightly wrung that she felt the crescents of her fingernails digging into her skin. "Bullshit!" She shouted. "I understand more than anyone! Do you think that I was three years old when I decided to hate him? I tried for years to please him. All I ever wanted was to be good enough for him, to be better than you, better than-." She stopped herself. _Better than Jonathan_. But to her father, no one was better than Jonathan. He was perfect. "I'm done." She told him.

His mouth fell slightly. "What? What do you mean?"

She swallowed, staring right back at him. Her heart burned just thinking of saying the words. She took a deep breath. "This. Us. Everything." She sighed. "After last night, I won't do it anymore. I can't. I thought I ruined this, but I was wrong. It was you."

She hated the way he looked at her. Like she had just ripped his heart from his chest and torn it apart with her teeth. Maybe she had. But he had done it to her first.

"You can't do this, Lizzie. I _need_ you." He whispered.

She said no, he didn't. "If you did, you wouldn't have done what you had. We both know it." Her legs felt as if they would collapse underneath her. She couldn't stay there, she had to go.

She started walking, going opposite of Luke's house. Alec or Clary would just have to fill her in later. She passed by Jace, moving aside as he tried to reach out and grab her arm.

"I know you, Liz. You won't fight me." He called after her.

Without turning back, she said, "Yes, I will. And I'll win." She kept walking, her hair blowing out from behind her ears in the breeze.


	20. Chapter 20

The Hotel Dumont towered over her. She hadn't been near it since the night Simon got turned into a rat. Now, that night seemed so far away. A lifetime ago. Which, back then, she had been living another life. The life of Eliza Starkweather.

The scar on her throat seemed to grow cold being near the vampire hideout. It barely hurt anymore, just a burning sensation every so often.

She moved to the side of the hotel, relieved to see that the Dumpster had not been moved back to cover the grate on the wall. She removed the grate, tossing it aside. After looking around, she slid through the hole in the wall. Her feet landed soundly on solid ground. Brushing off her clothes, she started moving. She wondered what the vampires did inside the hotel during the day. Did they sleep? Party? She supposed she was about to find out.

The lobby of the hotel was how she remembered it. Grand staircase torn away by the vampires, moth-eaten rugs, and the smell of rot.

"What are you doing here?" The voice sent chills down her back. She turned, seeing Raphael standing before her. He wore a perplexed expression on his face, half-surprised and half-amused. "Here to ask another favor?"

She said no sharply. "That was Jonathan, not me."

"Declan is not here. He is out, hunting." Raphael informed her.

Her nose crinkled at the idea of Declan on the hunt for blood. It was something she tried not to think about. "Good. I'm not here for him."

The vampire frowned. "Simon is not here either. He spends his days at home." She told him she wasn't looking for Simon either. She was looking for him. He took a step back. "Shadowhunter, I will warn you that you are on our territory. One wrong move and we'll tear you apart."

She smirked. "I'd like to see you try." She mused. "But, I'm not here for a fight. I want to talk." She glanced up, not surprised to see several pale faces staring down at her. "I swear. On the Angel." She told Raphael. "I only need answers and then I'm gone."

Raphael looked up at the rafters and then back at her. He seemed to be strongly considering attacking her. She didn't blame him. "An oath on your Angel is concrete. Come, I have somewhere we can talk."

* * *

Raphael had a small room to himself in the hotel. Well-kept and dimly lit by two small lamps. There were blackout curtains covering both sets of windows, a dark red couch on the far wall, a black rug that covered most of the rotting floor, and a nice desk.

"Sit." He motioned to the couch. He took a decanter from the desk and poured a dark liquid into a glass. "I would offer you a drink but I don't believe we share the same taste." He waited for her to sit before he did.

"No, we don't." She agreed. She watched him take a delicate sip of the blood. It left a small stain on his upper lip, almost like a milk moustache but more sinister.

"These questions you have, how do you know I can help?" He asked.

She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "You told me that my blood was vile. What did you mean?"

Raphael leaned towards her. He pushed her hair back, examining the mark he had left on her neck. She knew how badly it looked, the puckered pink scar tissue that created a jagged shape on her throat. "I've tasted many kinds of blood in my time. Men, women, mortals. Shadowhunters and warlocks, even a vampire once. They all taste…different. Mortal blood gets the job done, it satiates the hunger and keeps us alive. It only tastes good. Blood from the Shadow World, however, it is special. Shadowhunter blood is…it's euphoric. LSD for vampires. Nothing tastes that good, that pure. It's the blood of your Angel that runs through your veins, that is what makes the blood of Shadowhunters so divine. But you, my friend, your blood is sour. It tastes like the blood of a warlock I once drank during a very low point in my life."

She rolled her eyes. "What are you saying? That I'm not a Shadowhunter. That would be ridiculous. If I weren't, the Marks would have killed me years ago."

He shook his head. "No, I know you are a Shadowhunter. But that may not be all you are." He leaned back into the couch. "Where do these questions come from?"

"The Seelie Queen. She put the notion into my sister's head that our father experimented on us." She said. "I'm only trying to follow up and prove it wrong." Or right.

What could he have done to make them the way they were? How could he have given Clary the ability to create runes and enforce them so powerfully? What had he done to make her blood so disgusting to vampires?

"Perhaps your father is not who he says he is." Raphael suggested. She asked what he meant. "Maybe your lineage is not as pure as he would have you believe. What would happen if a demon and a child of the Angel consorted? What sort of child would be created from that?"

She leaned back, pushing her hair from her face. The idea was crazy, completely mad. Yet, on some level, it made sense. It explained so much. Clary's abilities. How the taste of her own blood matched that of warlocks, who were half-demon themselves. She was sure that if Raphael were to taste Clary and Jonathan's blood, he would say that theirs was also vile.

She stood up and looked down at Raphael. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this has helped me." He nodded. "Two more things. One: Declan can't know I was here. Two: Any way I could get a hand out of this place? I'm not too keen on the roof exit." Raphael stood, saying he knew a way out. He led her back through the hotel and to the kitchen. There was a door that he said would take her out the alley adjacent to the one she used to get in. "Thanks again. Now, we're even for the throat thing." She told him.

"I was unaware, considering you attacked first." He reminded her.

She grinned. "You bit my neck and tore through it. I have an ugly scar. We were not on good terms. Now, we are. Now, I'll second-guess killing you if the time comes." She patted him on the shoulder. "See ya."

* * *

Demon blood. Angel blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

It was all she could think about. The blood of Raziel coursed through her veins. Along with the blood of some random demon.

 _But_ , the voice in her head rang out, _what if it isn't random?_

She reached around her back and took out her sword. The white of the gold mixed with the adamas glittered in the sunlight. Her fingers ran over the bright rubies on the hilt, tracing over the engraved 'M' with her index finger. Mixed in with the metal of the blade was the blood of a Prince of Hell. Lucifer.

What had Valentine done to get Lucifer to give his blood for a Shadowhunter weapon? Her eyes traveled, staring at the blue-green veins on her wrist. Surely….

It wasn't impossible. If her father had been able to get Lucifer to provide blood for a sword, it was possible that the Prince of Hell would have given blood for children. At what cost, though? What assurance was given? Valentine didn't have the Mortal Sword all of those years ago to command Lucifer to give his blood. What could he have promised the Prince of Hell?

 _An army_.

Valentine would have promised him an army in exchange for blood. An army led by three extraordinary Shadowhunters that had abilities no other Nephilim did.

She felt sick. The Seelie Queen had been right. Valentine had experimented on them. He had somehow gotten Lucifer's blood in their DNA, making them more powerful than any other Shadowhunter.

The shrill ringing of her cell phone cut through her thoughts. Isabelle's name flashed on the screen. She flipped the phone open. "What's up?" Izzy's words were scrambled and rushed. She only heard snippets, something about Jace, the Lightwoods, and the Inquisitor. "Hold on. Hold on, Iz. I'll be right there. As soon as I can." Eliza shut the phone and sheathed her sword all in two fluid movements.

The Inquisitor. She really wasn't in the mood to deal with Imogen Herondale.

* * *

The demon energy bike squealed to a stop in front of Luke's house. The good thing about the bike's was that they functioned perfectly normal during the day, if you knew how to work them. She vaulted from the bike and let it clamor to the ground. Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran into the house, completely unprepared for what she was about to see.

Alec was sitting on the floor, a dazed look on his face, Izzy kneeling next to him. Magnus was staring straight ahead. Luke was standing near Clary. Jace's head snapped up as Eliza rushed through the door. Maryse Lightwood and her husband, Robert, were standing off to the side of the Inquisitor.

"Eliza Morgenstern. What an unpleasant surprise." Imogen Herondale muttered. "Where have you been?" She asked sharply.

Eliza bit her tongue, refraining from saying something smart. "The Hotel Dumont and then I went back home."

The Inquisitor seemed surprised at her pliant response. "You are right on time. I was just about to tell everyone about yours and your brother's little visit with your father last night."

Alec jumped up from the floor. She heard someone inhale sharply. She felt Jace's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him. "They doesn't know where Valentine is, Imogen." Luke insisted. "You're being absurd."

Imogen looked between Jace and Eliza. "Which one of you is going to tell the truth? The liar or the brat?"

"I'm not telling you anything." Jace said defiantly.

The Inquisitor's eye twitched angrily. She turned to Eliza. "Tell us all about your father's little joy boat. The one in the middle of the East River."

She felt everyone staring at her. Jace's was the most pressing. His look would say everything his words couldn't: _Don't tell. Lie. Lie like you always do._

She met the Inquisitor's gaze. "We were there. Last night." She confirmed. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jace's face fall, his jaw locked. The Inquisitor's face gleamed. "Jace asked Raphael, the head of New York's vampire clan, to bring a demon bike here to Luke's last night. He asked me to go somewhere with him but didn't tell me where. I went, only because I trusted him." She glanced at Jace. He was looking down at the floor. "You can imagine my surprise when Valentine appeared. But you already knew the part about Raphael, didn't you?"

Imogen Herondale nodded. There was a bright look in her eyes, the kind of look that suggested she was thriving off of the energy in the room. "Jonathan, empty your pockets. Give me that little object you hold so dear."

Jace reached into his jacket pocket and took out a large piece of glass. Eliza squinted, looking closer. It wasn't any piece of glass, it was a broken piece of the Portal mirror Valentine had used to escape. How long had Jace been carrying that with him?

"I'll take that." The Inquisitor said. She swiped the piece of mirror from Jace's hand so quickly, the glass cut into him. Eliza saw the spurt of blood well on the palm of his hand. A quiet noise escaped from Maryse's mouth. "For someone so impertinent, you really are sentimental. Which is why I knew you would go back for this." The Inquisitor held the piece of mirror up in the air. Robert Lightwood asked what exactly was so special about a piece of glass. "It's a piece of mirror that Valentine used as a Portal. When he destroyed it, it preserved an image of its last destination. Wayland manor."

Eliza could see the image in the glass. Bright green grass, the beautiful country manor, clear blue sky. Her heart longed for Idris, to go back and escape from everything. Somehow, she would sneak Declan in. Together, they'd live a peaceful life.

All of a sudden, the Inquisitor threw the piece of glass to the floor, letting it shatter on impact. It broke into hundreds of glistening shards that fell like powder. Jace inhaled sharply but made no movement. The Inquisitor slipped a glove onto her hand and knelt down, fingering through the broken glass. She pulled up a thin slip of paper, marked by a black rune.

"You used a tracking rune." Eliza noted. She had to give credit where it was due. The Inquisitor was smart.

The woman said yes. "Like I said, I knew that Jonathan would return for it. I placed the tracking rune on the paper and put it between the glass and the backing for when he would retrieve it." She sounded mildly impressed with her own actions, like she hadn't been sure if it would actually work or not.

"So, the Clave just spies on people now? You invade our privacy, go through our things, and follow us?" Jace's voice was white-hot with anger, his face red.

The Inquisitor turned to him sharply. "I would watch your tongue, boy. Your friends are also complicit in your crime. In releasing you from the Silent City, they too broke the Law." Her eyes slid over each person in the room. Eliza wasn't fond of the look she gave Magnus. Isabelle reminded the Inquisitor that Jace was their brother.

"Imogen, don't be ridiculous." Robert Lightwood managed to say. "They're only children."

The Inquisitor gave him a cold glare. "Only children? Do I need to remind you what children are capable of? You and your wife were only children when you joined the Circle and consequently planned to destroy the Clave. My son was only a child when-." She stopped her words abruptly, her eyes wide.

"Is all of this truly about Stephen?" Luke asked her.

 _Who the hell was Stephen_ , Eliza wondered.

"No! This is and always has been about the Law!" The Inquisitor's voice was shrill and harsh.

Eliza watched Maryse's face draw together in complicated thought. Her hands wrung together in front of her, thin fingers working over and around, twisting and knotting. "What happens to Jace? And Eliza." An afterthought. Never the first.

The Inquisitor set her mouth in a thin line. "All you can know is that they will be returning to Idris with me tomorrow."

 _Idris_. The world worked in funny ways.

"You can't!" Clary told the Inquisitor. "When are you going to bring them back?"

Eliza looked at her sharply. "Stop, Clary." She insisted. "This isn't your fight."

Clary shook her head. "They aren't the problem! It's Valentine!"

Jace spun around to face her, his eyes dark. "Jesus, Clary, just leave it alone!"

Clary's face twitched and she stepped back. She was wrong. Jace was the problem. He was on the wrong side. Luke put his hand on Clary's shoulder. "If the twins sought out Valentine, the fault is ours, not theirs. We failed them." His voice was calm, deep and solid as the ocean after a storm.

Eliza rolled her eyes. "I didn't seek him out." She said harshly. "I despise him. I loathe him. More than anyone in this room, I promise you that." She told Luke. She turned to Magnus. "I told you once that if I had to pay for his crimes, pay for the crime of being his blood, I would gladly do it. But," she turned back to the Inquisitor, "I will _not_ pay for the crime of being complicit with Valentine, because I am not. Jonathan tricked me, he used my trust against me and he took me to the place I never wanted to be, in the presence of our father."

Alec was perched on the arm of the couch, lost in thought. "There's no excuse." He said quietly. His head lifted. "Jace lied. To all of us. It isn't excusable."

Eliza's eyes widened as Jace's mouth fell open. There was no way Alec was siding with the Inquisitor. Alec was always loyal to Jace, that was what being _parabatai_ meant.

"The Law is hard, but it is the Law." Alec said, his tone full of finality. His gaze was trained on Eliza. He gave a small nod.

Izzy let out an unnatural noise, something that bordered on agony and anger. She spun on her heel, running out the front door. Maryse went to go after her, but Robert put a gentle hand on her elbow to hold her in place.

"Time for me to go as well, I believe." Magnus announced. He avoided Alec as he made his way to Eliza. "You and I need to have a chat, little dove. We'll speak soon." She murmured a yes. He looked to the rest of the people in the room. "As for everyone else, the next time I see any of you will be much too soon." Magnus strutted from the living room and out the front door. The door slammed shut loudly.

"Your hands." The Inquisitor motioned to Jace. He held out his hands as she took out her stele. Eliza watched as she drew a Mark around the area of his wrists. The Mark forced his hands over one another, binding them with a ring of fire. She didn't even have to ask Eliza before she was holding out her hands. She performed the same Mark. Eliza felt surprised, even though she knew it wouldn't hurt unless she tried to get free.

"You're going to burn them!" Clary shouted.

"No, little sister." Jace said, his voice sounding suddenly bored. "Only if we try to get free."

Eliza nodded. "We'll be fine." She managed a smile. If she managed to get free, she was going to ring Jace's neck.

The Inquisitor looked down at Clary. "Count yourself lucky that you were raised by Jocelyn and not Valentine. No matter, I'll be watching you very closely." She warned.

If Imogen Herondale so much as laid a finger on Clary, Eliza was going to shove her foot so far down her throat, the woman felt her teeth in her ass. Luke pulled Clary closer to him, asking if Imogen was threatening Clary.

"No." The Inquisitor said. "The Clave doesn't threaten. We make promises and we always keep them." On that note, she grabbed Jace by the shoulders. "Let's go. Jonathan, walk in front of me. Eliza, next to your brother. If either of you tries to run, I'll shove my seraph blade through your backs."

Her words chilled Eliza's spine. She didn't doubt for a second that Imogen wouldn't hesitate to kill either one of them. She felt pretty close to wanting to kill Jace as well. Jace struggled but managed to open the front door. She let him walk out the door first and followed him, unnervingly aware of how close the Inquisitor was following behind her.

* * *

As much as she wanted it to, her mind wouldn't shut down. The thought of Lucifer's blood running through her veins made her sick. And then there was the fact that she was currently detained. She knew she would be punished. She had smarted off to the Inquisitor upon their first meeting, landing herself in the cells of the Silent City, then Jace had tricked her into going to Valentine. She was well aware that it didn't matter that she hated her father, that she wanted to see him fail, to watch him die. She would be punished just for being his daughter.

What that punishment was, though, she didn't know. There were so many things that could happen to her. They could once again lock her down in the Silent City prison, send her away, or…or they could strip her Marks.

She looked down at the Voyance rune on her hand. Even though she couldn't see it, she knew the Angelic Rune was in the exact same spot it always had been, the back of her neck. Who was she, without the Marks? Who would she be if she weren't a Shadowhunter?

No one. That was exactly who she would be. Nothing and no one. She couldn't imagine a life free of being a Shadowhunter. No longer hunting demons or training or fighting with Downworlders over the Law.

She supposed that, should they strip her Marks, she would be completely free to be with Declan. There would be nothing stopping them. They could go anywhere, do anything, be free of the Clave. The only problem would be his unnatural urge to drink her blood. But, if she drank his blood, turning herself into a vampire, that wouldn't be a problem…

 _Stupid,_ she told herself. _You aren't doing that._

It really was a ridiculous notion. She wasn't even sure she wanted to be with him. Not the way she wanted Jace. Even as pissed as she was, as much as she wanted to hate him, she couldn't bring herself to. She knew that she would always love him, but that certainly didn't mean that she wouldn't kick his ass when the time came.

She spared a look over at him. He looked the worse she had ever seen him. Neither of them had slept the night before and she was sure their non-speaking was taking a toll on him. She wondered if he too had thought about what would happen to them. Did he assume that their Marks would be stripped and they would be exiled too?

The Inquisitor opened up the door to the training room and let them both inside. She caught Jace looking at himself in the mirrors of the room. Was he seriously checking himself out? They had just been arrested!

"You won't look as attractive once I'm finished with you." The Inquisitor said in a dark voice.

Eliza raised her eyebrows as Jace moved his attention away from the mirrors and to the Inquisitor. "Ms. Herondale, do you find yourself attracted to me? You're amongst the many, I believe." He replied, his voice easy and smooth.

Eliza rolled her eyes. How typical of him. "Disgusting." The Inquisitor muttered. "I'm old enough to be your mother." She reached into the pouch on her waist and pulled out four pieces of metal rod. Blades, Eliza realized.

Jace nodded. Did he think of Jocelyn when the talk of mothers came up? "You have a son, don't you?" He asked her. "Stephen?"

Eliza stumbled backwards as the Inquisitor turned on Jace with a look of fury that struck a little fear inside her. "Never speak his name!" She hissed at him. It took her a few moments to regain her sense of control, pointing at the center of the room. "Both of you. Stand in the middle of the room."

Eliza didn't hesitate to move, getting to her spot before Jace. He stood beside her, a few feet away. He was staring down at his hands. The unusual rune that the Inquisitor had used to bind their hands didn't come without pain. Eliza had pushed the feeling aside, focusing on what would happen once they were back in Idris. Settled on the idea of being stripped of her Marks, the pain returned. She felt as if knives were being stabbed into her wrists.

The Inquisitor named one of the blades Jophiel and stuck it into the wooden floor. Eliza expected something to happen, but nothing did. The Inquisitor took another of the blades, named it Harahel, moved a few feet, and placed it in the floor. It was when she placed the third blade, which she named Sandalphon, into the ground that Eliza figured out what she was doing. They had been placed in cardinal directions. North, south, and east. She placed the fourth blade, Taharial, to the west.

"You won't be going anywhere." The Inquisitor announced, a proud look on her face. "Just one more thing first." She said quietly. She went back to the blade at the south point and took out her stele. She etched a rune on the floor next to the blade. When she got to her feet, a sweet and high noise filled the room. Eliza wished she could cover her ears.

Each of the blades erupted in light and she squeezed her eyes shut. She waited for the noise to dissipate before she opened them again. When she did, she saw what she had expected. The cage. Exactly like she remembered. Rather than metal, the walls were made of moving light that blurred the outside world.

"What is this?" Jace shouted at the Inquisitor. Her form was barely made out behind the cage, Jace's voice distorted. She thought she heard the Inquisitor laugh. Jace grimaced and stepped forward. His right shoulder brushed a part of the wall and she heard him groan. He fell to the floor, landing on his back.

"It's a Malachi Configuration." Eliza said wearily. Jace's head snapped up so that he was looking at her. Almost in unison, both he and the Inquisitor asked how she knew that. "Valentine put me in one when I was eleven. My training performance was, I think he called it 'dismal' that day." She told them.

She couldn't make out the expression on the woman's face. "The walls of the Configuration cannot be broken as long as the blades remain in place. However," Jace was working his way towards the western blade, "if you touch the blades, you'll die."

Jace glanced up at Eliza, trying to confirm the Inquisitor's words. She nodded slowly, hating to agree with the wicked woman. "You can touch them." Jace noted. The Inquisitor said yes, but also told him that she wouldn't. "What do we do about food and water?" He asked. "And our hands."

Blood was starting to well up at his wrists where the metal was burning into them. She was sure that if she looked down at her own wrists, she would see the same thing.

"This is but one of the consequences for your little visit with your father last night." The Inquisitor reminded him.

Eliza's shoulders fell. She knew it. She was being punished for being Valentine's daughter. She had had nothing to do with going to see him, all of it Jace's idea. "Well, I know one thing." Eliza sighed. "There's no way in Hell that the Council is worse than you."

She heard the Inquisitor laugh quietly. "You aren't going before the Council." She told them. Her voice calm and collected, at peace.

Jace and Eliza looked at each other. Both had looks of concern and just a little fear. "You said you were taking us to Idris tomorrow." Jace said slowly.

"I'm taking you to your father. I'm going to request a trade: the two of you for the Mortal Instruments."

Her legs went out from under her. She fell down to the floor, her knees hitting the hard, polished wood. _Valentine_. The Inquisitor was going to take them to Valentine. She wanted to throw up.

"You're kidding." Jace said dully.

The Inquisitor said no. "You'll be banned from the Clave, though, I'll make sure of that. I'm sure you knew that."

Eliza looked up from the floor. She focused, training her eyes to see the Inquisitor's through the fuzzy barrier of the cage. "You're wrong." She said thickly.

She saw the confused expression pass over the woman's face. "No, I believe I'm quite right. You will be banned from the Clave."

Eliza shook her head once. "About Valentine, our father. He won't give up the Mortal Instruments. Not for Jonathan, certainly not for me. You've pegged him wrong." She told the woman. Her words held no malice, only fact. The Inquisitor said that a parent would do anything for their children. "Not him." Eliza said. "You could shove a blade through our hearts and he still wouldn't hand over the Mortal Instruments. I promise."

The Inquisitor countered her again. "You don't understand. A parent loves their child like nothing else in the world. No other love exists that is so consuming, so powerful. I'm sure that even Valentine, the monster he is, wouldn't sacrifice either of his children for power."

"She's right." Jace told the Inquisitor. "He'll laugh in your face."

Eliza got to her feet. She got close to the wall of the cage, not so close that she would be burned, but close enough to feel just a small amount of heat on her face. "Do yourself a favor and save us all some time. Take us to Idris tomorrow, put us on trial before the Clave. We'll be found guilty and stripped of our Marks, exiled from the Shadow World. You'll be wasting everyone's time if you try this stint with Valentine."

The woman looked cross, impatience in her eyes. "Ever the father's children, little obedient servants of Valentine." She heaved a sigh. "He trained you both well. Even in his absence, you follow his command." What the hell was she going on about? "You don't want him to hand over the Mortal Instruments. If he loses them, he loses power, which means you do as well. I won't be fooled by two smart-mouthed children."

Eliza wanted to bang her head against the light wall. How could the Inquisitor be so senseless? "I want nothing more than to take the Sword and the Cup from him. I want him to lose. I want him to die." She told the Inquisitor. "He _won't_ do it. He doesn't care about anything else, only his work. Only his mission."

Jace agreed with her. "You hate us and you think we're liars. And we are. But we aren't lying when we tell you that he won't relinquish his power. Our father completely and whole-heartedly believes in his mission. He thinks what he's doing is right. Surely you heard what he told us." He plead. The Inquisitor said no. She only saw.

"He's using the Mortal Instruments to build an army of demons. The longer we sit here and debate over whether or not he loves us, dear old Dad is creating an army that the Clave will not defeat." Eliza explained. "There's no time for this."

"I've grown tired of your lies." The Inquisitor said suddenly. She turned away from them, walking away. Eliza's shoulders slumped. Just before she reached the door, the Inquisitor turned back to face them. "I don't want to return you to your father." She told them. Eliza only saw the vague shape of her face, her grey clothes had molded into the shadows of the room." He doesn't deserve that much kindness." In a quiet and unsure voice, Jace asked what he deserved. "The hold his child in his arms, lifeless and cold. To know that no matter what he does, there is no power that will bring his child back to life." Her voice faltered, her words uneven and shaky, but there was a darkness in them, a hatred. "He deserves to know what that feeling is like." At her last word, the Inquisitor slipped through the door and let it fall shut.

* * *

It seemed like hours had gone by before either of them managed to look at each other. She thought she broke first, her gaze sliding over to see if he was still awake. Her breath hitched when she saw that he was already looking at her. He was lying on his back, head turned to look at her. He didn't look particularly comfortable.

"You're creeping me out." She stated. "How long have you been staring?"

He said he didn't know, wincing and glancing down at his shoulder before looking back at her. She could only imagine how much pain he was in. "You practically begged her to strip your Marks and exile you." He said thoughtfully. "I didn't know you hated being a Shadowhunter so much."

She said that wasn't the reason. He asked what could possibly make her sound desperate to be exiled. "It's better than going back to him." She said truthfully. "Anything, even death, would be better." She told him in a quiet voice.

His eyes softened, the color of warm honey on a summer day. "You never told me about the Malachi Configuration."

She couldn't help the crass smile that found its way on her lips. She looked down at the floor and then back to him. "I try not to think about it. The whippings, those were bad. At least, I thought they were bad until I spent three days locked in a cage. I spent the first day trying to get out. I was covered in burns from slamming myself against the wall. By the second day, I thought it was one of his lessons, a test. It was about perseverance, diligence, obedience, a multitude of things he had forced into my head." She laughed, a hollow sound. "When day three rolled around, I thought he left me there to die. He had always told me what a disappointment I was, how I would never be better than you." Both of them, Jonathan and Jace. Jace and Jonathan. His pride and his joy. "He never fed me, never came down to the basement. I thought about grabbing one of the blades, hoping he had told the truth and it would kill me. And then he came downstairs, two small ravens perched on his shoulders. Hugin and Munin. A birthday present, that was what he called them." She laughed again, raising her head to look at the ceiling. "I spent my twelfth birthday locked in a cage. He never apologized. He let me out, warned me of the perils of disobedience for the thousandth time, and then never spoke of it again."

Jace licked his lips slowly. "I'm sorry." He said softly. She said it wasn't his fault. He didn't lock her up. He hadn't whipped her. Starved her. Tortured her. "That's not what I'm talking about, Liz." She met his gaze. "I'm sorry for last night. I never should have taken you there. I never should have gone. If I hadn't, we wouldn't be here."

He wasn't wrong. If he could have just been a little stronger, they wouldn't be locked up. She wouldn't be on her way back to her father. "You're right." She told him. "We wouldn't be. But none of it matters now."

Before he could speak, soft footsteps came from the other side of the room. Jace sat up as fluidly as he could, leaning forward. She got to her feet, drawing extremely close to the wall of the cage. All she could make out was a dark figure in the room. If it was the Inquisitor, she was going to lose her mind. Hadn't the woman done enough?

Then again, Eliza knew she had suffered enough. Her hatred for Valentine was personal. The Inquisitor's words had rung in her head for a long time after she had left them in the training room. Her father had shown her his book of the Circle countless times. She remembered seeing Stephen Herondale in one of the photos. He was dead, the son of the Inquisitor.

The figure stepped into the light of the cage. She smiled with relief.

"Alec." Jace's voice was tough. There was no way he had forgiven Alec for siding with the Inquisitor at Luke's.

Alec said yes, kneeling down on the ground. He reached out to the wall. "What is this?" He asked.

"Don't." Eliza yelped. "It burns." She warned him. "Courtesy of the Inquisitor."

Alec whistled lowly. "She was serious, huh?"

Jace agreed. "Haven't you heard?" Eliza didn't like the acidic tone of his voice. So, he wasn't over the Alec thing. "We're dangerous criminals."

Behind the cage, she saw Alec flinch at his words. "That wasn't the word she used." He replied quietly. "And this isn't a joke. What were you two even thinking, going to see Valentine?"

Eliza held up a hand. "I want it to be clear that it wasn't my idea." She reminded Alec. "Jonathan tricked me."

Jace's eyes steeled. "He's my father. Our father."

Alec didn't look pleased with his answer. If Eliza could have punched him, she would have. Oh, how she wished her hands weren't bound. "He isn't!" She shouted at him. "He isn't a father, he's a monster." Jace said his name, starting to counter her but she stopped him. "Fathers don't do what he did. What he does. He may be your father, but he isn't mine. He never was."

Alec grimaced. "Jace, she has a point…"

"What would you do, Alec, if it were your father?" Jace asked in a low voice.

Alec looked stunned. The expression he wore was almost as if Jace had punched him in the gut. He and Eliza looked at each other. She shrugged. "He wouldn't ever do the stuff that Valentine has done."

Jace snapped. He looked as if something inside of him, a wire, had frayed and he'd been electrocuted. "He did!" Jace yelled. "Robert _and_ Maryse were in the Circle with my father! There's only one difference: my father didn't get caught and yours did!"

Her mouth fell open. Her throat tightened as she processed what Jace had said to his _parabatai_. "The only difference?" Alec asked quietly. Jace averted his gaze to his hands. "Jace, I only meant that I thought you wouldn't want to see him after…after everything he did to _you_." Jace remained silent, looking away from both of them. "He faked his death in front of you. He let you believe that he was dead for years." Alec's words became thick, the struggle evident. "No one who loves you could do anything like that. No one who loves you hurts you that way." He told Jace.

Jace grimaced at his hands. When he looked up, she knew he was in pain. Not just physically, emotionally. His eyes were dark, droopy from exhaustion. "He promised me." He said, words slow and sure. "He promised that if I took his side and supported him, he would ensure that the ones I loved would be safe. He promised to protect every single one of them. Not you. Not Izzy. Not Max or your parents. Not Clary. Not El-." He stopped himself, quickly looking over at her. "He promised."

Alec nodded, chewing on his lower lip. "He meant that he wouldn't hurt them himself." Eliza paraphrased. "That doesn't mean he won't have someone else do it. He has demons doing his dirty work quite a bit these days."

Jace coughed. "Liz, you saw what he can do. The demon army he's calling to him. He's going to start a war. And you know what happens to people in wars. They get hurt. They die." He said. "This is a chance to protect everyone. To protect you."

Her nose twitched when she looked at Alec. She wondered if he knew. He and Jace were closer than brothers. Had Jace ever gone to him and confided in him about what he thought were the unnatural feelings he held for his sister? She supposed not. She didn't expect that they spoke about things like that. Jace wasn't one to confide his feelings in someone.

"If you support him?" Alec clarified. Jace said yes, that was the condition. "Well, I can imagine how pissed he was when you told him no." Jace met his gaze through the wall.

Eliza looked between the two boys. Was Jace going to tell him? "What makes you think I refused his offer?" Jace inquired quietly.

Alec glared back at him. "Didn't you? Say no?" He snapped.

Jace glanced at her. He nodded once. He was lying, lying to his _parabatai_. Unless...unless he wasn't? She had left immediately after Jace had told her father he had made a decision. She didn't want to stick around for the details. She had taken the demon bike and booked it off the ship. She didn't exactly know what his decision was, only that he had made one.

Alec stood up, a much more pleasant look on his face. "Thought so. Did you tell the Inquisitor what Valentine is planning?"

Eliza snorted. Both of them looked at her. "She knows. She thinks she has a way to fix it. We tried telling her that her plan sucks, but she's too prideful."

Alec said that sounded likely. "We'll talk more about it later. We've got to get you guys out of this…"

"Malachi Configuration." Eliza told him.

Alec stared back in silence. "Don't ask." Jace warned him. "You won't like the answer. Besides, what happened to 'The Law is hard, but it is the Law'?" He asked sharply.

Alec looked shocked at Jace's words. "You really thought I meant that?" He questioned, words equally as sharp. Jace raised his eyebrows. "I needed the Inquisitor to trust me. She's watching Izzy and Max because they're on your side. I don't need her watching me." Jace asked if Alec was on his side, their side. There was more to it than just making sure Alec was on the right side. Jace needed to know if they were still as they always had been: brothers. "Always." Alec's voice was steady, his word sure. "She hates the two of you. But I don't think it's about you. There's something else there, I just don't know what it is."

Eliza tried her best to clap her hands together. The noise called their attention, followed by the bells in the cathedral ringing out. She looked at the rafters. Hugo had often flown above the training room, perching himself high above the young training Shadowhunters, spying on them. Feeding information for Hodge to give to Valentine.

"I know." She told the two of them. Jace asked what she was talking about. "I know why she hates us, you in particular." Both of them told her to elaborate. "Do you remember when Luke mentioned someone named Stephen earlier?" They both said yes. "Stephen was her son. If I remember correctly, I think he was in the Circle. And I think he died. All of that stuff she said to us, about Valentine deserving to know what it feels like to hold his dead child in his arms? I think it's about Stephen." She explained. She could only imagine how it felt to lose a child, to hold them while they died. Valentine would never feel that way, he would never feel that hurt.

Would her mother? Would Jocelyn feel the pain if she died? When she died.

"I can ask my parents. To be sure." Alec suggested.

Jace said no immediately. "Ask Luke." He told him. "Send a text to Clary using Isabelle's phone or something and tell Clary to ask Luke."

Eliza rolled her eyes and scoffed. Jace asked if she had a problem. "I have a phone. I can call him and ask. Whenever I get the hell out of these chains." She rose her hands and shook them at Alec.

His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he remembered his original task. "Right. Give me a few minutes. I'll be right back." He rushed out of the training room.

* * *

Jace had laid back down. His eyes were closed and she was sure he was asleep. She paced. That seemed like all she did anymore. Pace and pace and pace. Think and think and think.

Valentine. Jocelyn. Imogen and Stephen Herondale. Jace. It always came back to him. The way he made her feel. How he absolutely infuriated her. How she loved him more than anyone else, more than anything else.

"What are you guys doing?" Alec's voice carried through the room as he sprinted back in. There was a sincerity in his voice that made her aware of the fact he really wanted to know what they were doing. He knelt down next to the wall.

"I've found that lying on the floor and cringing in pain is quite relaxing." Jace answered crudely.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's interesting." Alec noted lightly. "Wait. You're being sarcastic." He sighed. "Liz?"

She looked at him through the shimmering wall. "Thinking of the different ways I could kill my father." She said bluntly. It was a nice lie, and truth be told, she had thought about it on several occasions.

Alec inhaled sharply. "Right. Well, both of you move back. I'm going to try and slip you something through the wall." Before either of them could object, he was pushing something through the wall. A small red sphere and a small green sphere rolled towards them. The red sphere bumped into Jace's knee.

Eliza bent down and picked up the green one. "Apples." She observed. "You brought apples."

"How nice of you." Jace drawled.

She saw Alec shrug. "Figured you guys were hungry. I remembered you like the green ones better, Liz." He mentioned.

She said a quiet thank you. She had gone three days without food before, a few hours wasn't hurting her. She took a small bite from the apple. Jace asked if Alec had gotten around to texting Clary yet.

"No. Izzy won't let me in her room. She just screams from the other side. She threatened to jump out the window if I came in and honestly, I wouldn't put it past her." He told them. They both agreed. Izzy was a little dramatic. "I don't think she's really forgiven me yet for my supposed betrayal." Alec added.

"Smart girl." Jace said lightly.

She assumed that Alec rolled his eyes. "Here. Something else too." He slid a small metal disk through the wall. Jace let his apple fall to the floor and picked up the disk. "I'm pretty sure it's an Unlocking rune." Alec said. "I'm not completely sure, but I figured it was worth a try."

Jace shrugged and touched the disk to his wrists. At contact, the blue flames dissolved and the cuff vanished. Jace had a look of appreciation on his face. "Thanks." He told Alec. He walked over to Eliza and touched the disk to her wrists. She sighed in relief as the cuff disappeared.

"Thank the Angel himself." She breathed. Alec cleared his throat. "You too, Alec. Of course." There were thick red lines around her wrists from the cuff. Not much blood, unlike Jace's wrists. He had, she assumed, struggled a little bit with the manacle. She flexed her fingers, stretching them out and rolling her wrists.

"Anyways, I got to thinking earlier after Izzy said she'd jump out her window. I told her she couldn't or she'd probably end up dying." Eliza said he wasn't wrong. "That's not the point, though, not really." He said quickly. "Jace, I've seen you do things that seem impossible. I watched you fall three stories and you landed perfectly on your feet. You've jumped onto a roof, just from the ground."

Eliza's eyes slid over to Jace. He didn't wear the proud expression she had expected. "Are you going to get to the point?" Jace asked slowly.

Alec groaned. "Jace. There are only four walls to your…"- "Malachi Configuration."- "not five." He continued.

"Right. If only the Inquisitor had been kind enough to use only two walls, then we might get somewhere." Jace muttered.

"Shut up!" Alec shouted at him. Eliza flinched. She'd never heard Alec yell before, not like that. And from the look on Jace's face, neither had he. "I'm telling you that there isn't a top to the cage. You could jump out."

Jace and Eliza both looked up. The rafters were high in the ceiling, so high they seemed lost in the shadows. "That's a crazy idea." Jace mumbled.

"I believe in you." Alec assured him. "I know what you're capable of."

She licked her lips slowly. They were special, the Morgenstern children. She, Jonathan, and Clary. Valentine had mixed Lucifer's blood in with their own. He had created his own kind of Shadowhunters. She looked at Jace. She had, with her own eyes, see Jace do incredible things. Things normal Shadowhunters couldn't. Who was to say that her father's pet project wasn't special too? Who was to say that Valentine hadn't widened his experiments to the children of other Shadowhunters?

"Liz." Jace's voice rang clear apart from her jumbled and hurried thoughts. Their eyes met. "What do you think?"

She looked between him, the rafters above them, the Malachi Configuration around them, and the floor below them. When her eyes finally landed back on him, they were a dark green, a hard look in them. "Anything is better than going back to him."

His tawny eyes widened, but the nod he gave her was sure. He picked the apple up from the floor and tossed it in the air. The apple soared and then fell against one of the shimmering silver walls. It burst into blue flames.

Eliza winced. "I think I was wrong." Alec said suddenly. "Maybe you shouldn't…"

Jace angrily told him to shut up. He looked up, taking in the rafters above. "Go first." He told her. "If you don't get high enough, I'll be here to catch you."

She frowned at him. "Who catches you if you don't get high enough?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm Valentine's arrow."

She didn't want to know what that meant. She didn't say anything else. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, staring up at the rafters. Black wood, aged and firm. Steady, always holding up the Institute's roof. She had jumped down from them many times. What was the difference in jumping up to them?

She rolled her neck. She bent her knees, eyes open. They were no longer green. They were black as night. She took a deep breath, focusing only on the rafter she wanted to get to.

She jumped.


	21. Chapter 21

She moved quickly once in her room. She tore off her old clothes and yanked on the only clean pair of pants she had, black leather. She vaguely remembered wearing them to Pandemonium to bait a demon one night in June. They were a little tight, but they'd have to work. She slipped on a black t-shirt, tucking the front into her pants. She quickly pulled her boots onto her feet.

Pulling open the third drawer of her dresser, she pushed aside the useless trinkets and pulled out two seraph blades, shoving them in her belt. She slammed the drawer shut and dropped to her knees. She lifted the creaky floorboard, throwing out the straw she had placed there to cover her pack of throwing knives. She took out the pack and unfolded it.

"Beautiful." She murmured. Looking down at the braces, she didn't particularly want to put them on, but they were necessary. They wouldn't help the burns from the runes. "Heal." She muttered at her wrists. She cuffed the braces around her wrists and slipped two knives in each one. She put the floorboard back and stood up.

Sword. She needed her sword. The Inquisitor had confiscated it upon entering the Institute. That and her cell phone. She'd need those back.

She moved to the vanity, making quick work of her hair. Instinctively, her fingers laced through her hair, weaving and knotting until she had two very short braids. Good enough.

"Liz." Jace was standing in her doorway. His golden curls were ruffled, hanging on his forehead. He could have been an angel. A very bad one, but an angel. "We've got to go." The tension in his voice was enough to move her.

"I need my sword." She told him. "Where'd that damn woman put my sword…?" She muttered. If she had confiscated it for the Clave, Eliza was going to murder her.

Jace pulled something from behind his back. He held the sword out to her, blade pointed to the floor. "Swiped it from the main office by the library. Thought you might like it back."

She took the sword from him, balancing it in her hand. She couldn't fight the grin. "I could kiss you." She breathed. Silence filled the room as they looked at each other. "But I won't. Because that'd be weird."

"Because we're siblings."

"And I have a boyfriend." She added.

He echoed her words thickly. She followed him from her room down the hall to Isabelle's. Alec was lying on the floor, Izzy and Max standing over him.

"Well, this was about what I was expecting." Jace sounded a little too amused about Alec's predicament.

"Jace!" Izzy squealed. He pulled Eliza into the room and kicked the door shut. Max barreled into Jace, engulfing him in as big a hug as he could managed. "What happened? What did the Inquisitor do to you?" She bombarded.

"Just locked us up in the training room." Jace told her, patting the top of Max's head. "Alec helped us get out, though."

Izzy looked at her older brother with an incredulous expression. "Really?" Alec said yes, really. "You should have said something." She spat at him. "I wouldn't have knocked you on your ass if I'd known."

Alec made a face at her. "Izzy, I need weapons. And bandages for my wrists. Now." Jace told her. Izzy took out her stele and offered to use healing runes to fix the burns. "Those won't help." He said. "These are from runes."

Izzy put her stele back away. "Bandages and then weapons." She looked at Eliza. "Do you need some too?"

She said no sternly. "I made a pit stop to my room." She showcased the knife braces around her wrists and the two seraph blades she had swiped from her emergency weapons drawer.

"I meant bandages." Izzy said dully. Eliza said it couldn't hurt, just to be safe. Izzy went into her bathroom in search of medicines.

Eliza undid one of the braces, looking down at her wrist. She was bracing herself to see the black place from the Inquisitor's cuff, bloodied and chafed. But her wrist was fine. It looked good as new. There wasn't even an indicator that it had been hurt in the first place. She cuffed the brace and checked her other wrist. It too was perfectly fine.

Izzy came back out of the bathroom with a basket of bandages, gauzes and ointments. She held up a pack of gauze to Eliza. She shook her head. "Mine aren't that bad, actually. Just make sure Jon- Jace is okay."

He looked over at her. She gave a quick nod. _They were okay_.

"Alec, can you grab Izzy's phone?" Jace asked as Izzy bandaged his wrists. Izzy told him it was on the dresser.

Alec walked to her dresser and looked it over. Eliza could clearly see the problem. There was no phone on the dresser. "Iz, it's not here." Alec told her.

"Damn it." She hissed. She was placing an _iratze_ on Jace's bare back. "It's in the kitchen. I forgot I left it down there."

Max jumped off the bed. "I'll go get it!" He suggested. "The Inquisitor doesn't care that much about me anyways."

Both of his older siblings looked back at him. Jace even managed to turn his head. "Are you going to text Magnus something stupid?" Izzy asked her older brother. Max, clearly interested, asked who Magnus was.

"A warlock." Eliza said. "And a friend."

Max looked confused. "He's a sexy warlock." Izzy giggled. Alec looked absolutely infuriated with his sister.

"Aren't warlocks bad?" Max asked them. Eliza said no in a very firm voice. "I'll be back." Max told them. He was out the door in the blink of an eye.

Eliza saw Jace putting his shirt and jacket back on. He began pawing through Isabelle's items, searching for any weapons. "So, what's the plan? Are we all getting out of here?" Izzy asked them. "You know the Inquisitor is going to send out a trillion search parties when she realizes you two aren't in her little cell anymore. She'll lose her mind."

Eliza quipped that she seemed as if she had already lost it. "She'll lose whatever is left when Valentine turns down her offer." Jace supplemented.

"What offer? What're you talking about?" Izzy asked.

Eliza leaned against her dresser and took out one of her knives. She spun it between her fingers, looking at Izzy. "The Inquisitor was planning on using Jace and I as bait. She was going to offer Valentine a trade. Us for the Mortal Instruments. We told her he'd never go for it, but she's a very proud woman."

Isabelle's face lit up like a bonfire. Eliza had never seen her so upset. And Isabelle got upset quite a bit. "She can't do that!" She yelled.

Jace shrugged. "She doesn't know that yet."

Eliza slipped the knife back into the brace and pushed off the dresser. She pushed a wisp of hair from her face. "It doesn't matter what she knows and doesn't know. The only thing that matters is that we've got to get out of here." She told them.

Jace continued to dig through Izzy's belongings. Half of her stuff seemed to be strewn across the floor. "It won't be easy." Alec said. "This place is on lockdown. Half the Conclave is guarding the Institute right now."

Jace grinned boyishly. "Well, Lizzie, Inquisitor Herondale certainly is afraid of us."

She smiled back.

"I think she has a right to be." Izzy said. "You guys jumped thirty feet out of a…what's it called?" She asked Eliza.

"Malachi Configuration. Not a fun place to be." She said heavily. "I won't be going back a third time."

"Third time?" Alec asked quietly.

She shrugged but gave him a look that said the conversation wasn't going to happen. Jace found a ten-inch dagger, speared through one of Isabelle's bras. She took the bra off. Izzy asked how they managed to do it and Jace told her that they just jumped. He pulled two _chakhrams_ from underneath her bed, spinning them. Izzy asked what he meant, that they just jumped.

"I think the Seelie Queen was right." Jace got to his feet, brushing his pants off. "Maybe she was right when she said we have powers or abilities or whatever. Clary does."

 _She did_? Eliza hadn't exactly been around to see whatever had happened. "She was right." Eliza told them. "The Seelie Queen. I don't have the time now to explain it, but I know she was right. Valentine didn't lie to her."

Jace's eyes darkened. "Jace, is your vampire cycle still on the roof?" Alec asked suddenly. Jace said that even if it was, it wasn't very useful since it was daylight. Isabelle noted that not all of them would be able to fit on it.

Jace put the _chakhrams_ on his belt and sheathed the dagger on his belt as well. He pocketed the seraph blades he had found. "You aren't coming." He stated. "It's just me and Liz."

Izzy started to speak but Max ran back into the room. He shut the door quickly, heaving for breath. She glared at Jace as she furiously dialed the phone. "Clary, right?" Eliza confirmed. It was a tense few seconds until Isabelle spoke again. "It's Izzy…What do you mean?" Her face paled as she looked back at Eliza. Her dark eyes stood out, wide and concerned. "How did he even…"

"Iz, what's going on?" Jace asked.

Isabelle took the phone from her ear. "Valentine…He took Simon and Maia. For the Ritual."

Jace reached to grab the phone from her but Eliza got it first. She gave him a dangerous look, her eyes darker than green. He took a step back. She put the phone to her ear. "Clarissa, it's Eliza. Come to the Institute." Her words were even and stern. "Do exactly as I tell you. Do not come inside. Jace and I will meet you outside. Don't let anyone see you. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Eliza-."

"Fast, Clary. Get here fast." She hung up, handing the phone to Alec. There was a determined look in her eye. "Call Magnus. Tell him he needs to meet us by the waterfront in Brooklyn. Somewhere no one will see."

Isabelle asked what she was planning on doing. "We're going to Valentine." Jace informed her, casting a wayward look at Eliza. Isabelle asked who he meant. "Me, Liz, Magnus, and Luke. We need you guys to stay here and deal with the Inquisitor. You need to convince her to send everyone she has after Valentine." He explained.

Alec asked how they planned on getting out of the Institute. The Inquisitor had guards all over the place. There was no way they were sneaking out without being caught.

"Same way we got out of the Malachi Configuration." Jace assured him. A look of horror crossed Alec's face. Jumping out of a window was not the same as jumping up to rafters. Jace climbed up on Izzy's windowsill and pulled Eliza up next to him.

Isabelle was making a strangled noise in her throat and she could hear Alec about to protest. Jace's hand was warm against her own, his fingers wrapped tightly around hers. She looked over at him, relieved to see he was already staring at her.

Their heads turned at the same time, down towards the ground far below. And then they were falling.

* * *

She didn't particularly enjoy being on the roof of the Institute. She would have fallen, if it hadn't been for Jace. Well, and the Equilibrium rune. She grabbed onto one of the crumbling gargoyles for support, focusing her eyes on anything but the ground below them. She trained her eyes on Jace. He was moving swiftly in front of her, jumping from turret to turret. His hair shone brass in the light of the moon.

He was the sun, her sun. Bright and burning, dangerous if you strayed too close, if your eyes happened to linger for too long. He was golden and warm, the light on her darkest days.

She was the moon. Distant and cold. Dark, silvery, pale, not quite reachable.

The best days, their good days, were dusk and dawn. The sun and moon coexisting perfectly in the sky. That had been before Valentine came to New York. Before he had ruined everything. Now, he lived in the day and she lived in the night. There was no longer a dusk or a dawn.

He glanced back, making sure she was still right behind him. That was the moment she decided that if they defeated Valentine and recovered the Mortal Instruments, she would let the truth spill from her like a waterfall.

Jace dropped down to his stomach, gripping the roof with his hands. With unnatural ease, she did the same. The grate of the roof scraped against her front side and she grimaced. "We've got to jump." He told her.

Not wanting to, she looked down. The ground was a terrible way away from them. If they didn't land correctly, they'd die. But maybe, even if they stuck it, they would still die. Getting out of the Malachi Configuration and Alec's window were not the same as jumping from the roof of the Institute.

"Liz. It's okay." How could she worry about anything if he was assuring her? His words strong, sounding so sure of everything. "You said it yourself. We're special." He reminded her. She swallowed, nodding. He was right. They _were_ special. "Look, I'll go first. That way I'm there to catch you. Okay?"

"What if you don't make it?" She asked quietly.

He shrugged to the best of his ability. "Then, make it back inside. If anyone can sneak out of the Institute, it's you. And if anyone can stop our father, it would be you."

She took a deep breath. "Don't die." She told him. "I don't think I can do life without you, Jace." She said in soft voice.

His expression changed to one she hadn't seen in a long time. Tender eyes, warm smile. "Don't worry 'bout me, Liz." He murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."

She gripped onto the stones of the roof as tight as she could. Her eyes snapped shut as he turned, standing on the precipice of the roof, face turned down. She couldn't watch.

Someone screamed.

She waited a good ten seconds before she managed to peel them open. Shaking, she peered down. Jace was standing straight up, perfectly fine. Clary was next to him, both of them looking up in her direction.

"If Jace can do it, so can you." She whispered to herself. "You're the best Shadowhunter of your age." Or so Hodge had said. And even though he was a traitor, she didn't think he was wrong. She and Jace were the same caliber. He was the best because losing his father had made him stronger. She was the best because she had been stuck with her father.

The same man had bred them and built them into what they were.

She turned herself around and inched to the edge of the roof. "It's not even that high." She told herself. "He's there to catch you, but you don't need him." Before she could think twice and turn back around to climb into the Institute, she stepped off the roof.

It was mere seconds before her feet landed firmly on the ground. Clary and Jace were staring at her, astonished and open mouthed. "What?" She asked, exhaling lightly.

"Your eyes." Clary whispered. Jace's eyes were slanted, as if he were trying extremely hard to discern something. "They're bl-." Clary's word ended abruptly. Her younger sister blinked several times, rubbing her eyelids.

"Never mind. Must have been the shadows or something." Jace said quickly.

Clary nodded along with him. "How did…how did you guys do that?" She asked.

Eliza stared past Clary. Luke was standing beside his truck, hands behind his head. He wasn't looking at them but looking past them. She turned her head to see two of the Conclave guards running towards them. She recognized them from the Silent City massacre. Malik and the woman with silver hair.

"We've got company." She muttered. "We need to go. Now." She told her sister and Jace.

Jace nodded, grabbing Clary's hand. The three of them raced to Luke's truck. By the time they got there, Luke was already in with the truck running. Clary slid in next to him, Jace next to her. Eliza stopped. No room.

"Liz, get in!" Jace's hand wrapped around her wrist and he yanked her into the truck onto his lap. She pulled the truck door shut and Luke sped off. The truck drove by the two Conclave Shadowhunters.

Malik pulled out a knife. The metal blade shone in the sun. Eliza slipped a knife from her brace, gripping it tightly.

"You can't kill him!" Clary told her.

She rolled her eyes. "Just the hand." She promised. Clary said she could miss. "I never miss, little sister." She rolled down the window and leaned out. She focused her sight on Malik's right hand, the one with the knife. As he drew back his arm to throw, so did she.

Right as she was about to let the knife loose, the silver-haired woman threw herself on Malik, knocking him off balance. She wrestled for the knife in his hand. Eliza slid back into the truck, looking in the rearview mirror.

Luke rounded the corner, merging into traffic. She rested her head on the edge of the window, taking a deep breath. She looked over at Jace. "That was fun."

Jace and Clary both gawked at her. She knew that if he could, Luke would have given her the same look. "You're starting to sound like Isabelle." Jace muttered.

She grinned.

"Are you going to tell us how you jumped off the roof of the Institute or not?" Clary demanded to know.

"You answered your own question." Jace said, voice weary. "We jumped." He turned to Eliza. "Did you notice that my motorcycle is gone? The Inquisitor probably stole it and she's joyriding around, telling herself how smart her plan is."

She cracked another smile. "Clary doesn't care about the jumping part. She wants to know about the not dying part, more than likely." She told him. Clary said that was exactly what she wanted to know and said thank you. "What happened? When I left Luke's earlier, after you went for your sketchbook?"

Clary and Luke shared a look. Clary looked back to Eliza. "I created a Fearless rune." Eliza frowned, muttering that there was no such thing. "I know." Clary nodded. "But Jace suggested it and I just…drew it. And then we used it on Alec and he was about to tell his parents that he and Mag-."

"That's all I need to know, I think." Eliza stopped her. She didn't know for sure how much Jace knew about the situation or how much Alec really wanted out in the world. "Then, I guess it's time to tell you where I went."

Jace leaned up, putting her in an uncomfortable position. "You said the Hotel Dumont. Weren't you with Declan?" His voice cracked over Declan's name and she pushed that away. She said no. "Why the hell were you there?"

"It's about what the Seelie Queen told us. About Valentine experimenting on us."

Before she could say anymore, Luke cut her off. "Are we joyriding or going somewhere in particular?" He asked.

Jace and Eliza glanced at each other. Luke was _not_ going to like their answer. "Valentine's boat. He has Maia and Simon and he's going to use them for the Ritual. We're going to stop him." Jace said in a matter-of-fact voice. A voice that said he didn't want to be argued with. Luke immediately said no. "I said we. As in, me, you, Liz, and Magnus. Clary's going to stay on land, where it's safe." Well, Clary objected to that.

"That isn't what it's about, Jace." Luke said sharply. "It's too dangerous." Jace said that Luke didn't need to worry about them. "Of course I'm going to worry about you." Luke told them.

For a moment, Jace lost his words. He didn't respond, sitting in silence and staring at the traffic in front of them. "Don't. It's a waste of time." He said suddenly. "Valentine is going to slaughter anyone who comes after him. He'll kill your friends and then he'll call an army of demons so powerful, even the Clave won't be able to stop him." Luke said that the Inquisitor would put a stop to it.

"We tried." Eliza looked out the window. "We told her what he has planned and she didn't believe us. She thinks her grand plan is going to work, even though we insisted it wouldn't." Clary asked what the Inquisitor had planned. Eliza's fingers danced along the window. "She wanted to trade Jace and I for the Mortal Instruments. She really believes that he'll give her the Sword and the Cup in exchange for us." She laughed quietly.

"We left Isabelle and Alec to inform the Inquisitor and the Conclave about Maia and Simon." Jace continued on. "I don't think she'll go for it though. She's really invested in her plan, so I don't think she'll give it up for two Downworlders." He told them.

"We don't have that kind of time anyways." Clary stated. "We've got to get there now, before he hurts either of them."

Luke tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. He weaved in between cars, speeding through traffic. "The boat is in the middle of the East River. We need another boat to get there. And, well, I don't think any of you can walk on water." He reminded them.

Clary's phone went off, signaling a text message. Jace peered over her shoulder. "Isabelle texted me." Clary's voice was unsure. "Why did she send me an address?" She asked.

Jace recited the address to Luke, telling him to get there as fast as possible. "That's where we're meeting Magnus." Luke swerved the truck into a U-turn, going south. "We need Magnus to get us across the water to the boat and then onto the boat. It's warded. The only reason we got on last time was because he wanted to be found. It won't be so easy this time." Jace said.

Luke groaned, his finger tapping becoming more incessant and fast. His eyes were trained straight ahead. "I still think the two of you should stay behind and let me go alone." He said.

Jace leaned his head back on the rest. "It has to be us. We know what to expect." Luke asked what he meant. "Valentine is using a fear demon. I think he's been using it to kill things. The Silent Brothers, the warlock, that werewolf outside the Hunter's Moon, and the fey child." Jace informed them.

Eliza shuddered. Even if she knew what to expect when she stepped onto that ship, she didn't ever want to see it again. Jace, lying lifeless on the floor. Blank eyes staring back at her. Jonathan in front of her, Jace's blood on his hands. The image made her nauseous.

"The demon gets inside of your head." She murmured. "He shows you your worst fear and waits for the fear to kill you. And if it doesn't, he kills you himself." She squinted back the salty tears.

"He's using Agramon." Luke's face was pinched in concentration. He looked a little grey. She said yes, the Great Demon. "He's summoning Greater Demons with the Soul Sword?" She said yes again, in a quiet voice. "A warlock wouldn't have an easy time binding the Great Demon, especially outside of the pentagram."

Eliza's eyes slid over to him. A singular tear rolled down her cheek as he glanced over at her. "I think that was the point." She said roughly. "The kid's greatest fear was that the demon would break through the pentagram. Pretty convenient for my father."

She felt a spot of warmth on her back and quickly looked at Jace. He had placed his hand just on the middle of her back, invisible for anyone else to see. "He's using the Sword to summon demons and the Cup to control them." Jace added.

Luke groaned again, leaning closer to the steering wheel. "This makes me want to let you go even less." He strained. "The two of you can't take on a Great Demon."

Jace shifted and she leaned against the truck door for support. "If Clary puts the Fearless rune on us, we don't have to worry about Agramon. We'll be better equipped to take him down." Jace told Luke.

Eliza stared back at him. So that was why he had asked Clary to create a rune for fearlessness? To fight Agramon?

Clary said no loudly. "It might not work." She told them. "Then you guys could get hurt."

Jace told her that it had worked before, on Alec. Luke took the exit off the bridge to get back into Brooklyn. Eliza could see the waterfront in between the shutdown factory buildings. The water sparkled in the sunlight. Her stomach rolled at the sight of it.

"What if I mess up?" Clary asked softly.

Both Eliza and Jace looked at her. Green eyes. Golden eyes. Green eyes. "You won't." They both said.

Luke frowned as he kept driving. "That was creepy. Don't do that again." He told them. Eliza heard him mutter something about twins under his breath.

 _If he only knew_ , she thought.

She took out one of her knives, twirling it between her fingers absent-mindedly. Jace nudged her lightly. "What are you thinking?" He whispered.

She stopped, the knife perfectly balanced on her middle finger. She tipped it, catching it carefully and slipping it away. "Which eye I'm taking from Father first." She replied coolly.

* * *

The factory in front of them looked like it had been in a battle against a fire and been on the losing side. In the worst way. Eliza threw open the door of the truck, disregarding Luke calling her name. She stepped outside and shut the door.

She didn't see Magnus anywhere. The world was quiet around the waterfront. The only sound was the waves lapping in the water. Birds chirped as they flew above. Goosebumps covered her arms as the breeze blew through. She chided herself for not bringing along a jacket.

She heard the truck door open and shut again twice more and turned. The others had gotten out of the truck, all looking around. "If he told Alec he was coming, he'll come." Clary assured them. She watched Luke hand Clary a pair of wool gloves and she slipped her hands into them, smiling gratefully.

Jace walked right past her to the waterline. He knelt down on his knees, head bowed. Eliza adjusted herself and strode over to him. She knelt down next to him. "Little sister." Jace greeted her, his voice as jovial as he could force it to be.

She smiled tightly. "You're going to milk that forever, aren't you?" He laughed, saying maybe. _Soon,_ she thought, _you'll know the truth. And then dawn will come again_.

He took something from his jacket pocket. It was small and white, small enough she didn't really know what it was. He tossed it in the water. She watched whatever it was disappear in the depths of the murky river.

"What are you two doing?" Clary called.

Jace stood and turned to look at Clary and Luke. "Only sending a message." He told her. Eliza got to her feet. A message? Who the hell to? What other backup was he calling in? Clary asked who he was sending a message to. "No one. Doesn't matter." Jace said sternly.

He stalked away from the waterfront and laid his jacket out along the pebbled beach. There were old soda cans and dirty glass bottles strewn everywhere. He laid out the seraph blades he had swiped from Isabelle's room and lightly touched the _chakhrams_ on his belt. "These were all the weapons I managed to get. I didn't have the time to sneak into the armory." He told them.

Eliza sighed, tossing down her two seraph blades. "I've also got four throwing knives and my sword." She said.

The seraph blades were still beautiful, even without their names, without their glowing seraphic power. Jace ran his hands over each of the angel blades, a serene look on his face. He picked one up, named it _Abrariel_ , and offered it to Luke. Luke said no, showing him the _kindjal_ on his belt.

Jace handed the seraph blade to Clary. "Be careful." His voice was intimidating. For just that moment, he sounded like the man who wasn't his father. He named his other two blades _Camael_ and _Telantes_.

Eliza picked up her two blades. She tossed one in the air and when she caught it, she called out " _Atheed_!" and the blade began to shimmer and change color. She did the same with the other, naming it _Jahoel_ as her hand wrapped back around it.

"Show off." Jace muttered. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Are we allowed to use Raziel's name?" Clary asked.

Jace added his two seraph blades to his belt and shrugged his jacket back on. "No." Luke told her. Luke was staring past them, no doubt looking for Magnus.

Clary's phone went off, buzzing loudly in her pocket. She tossed the phone to Jace. Jace had an amused look on his face when he looked at Eliza. "The Inquisitor gave Valentine until sundown to make a decision. Us or the Mortal Instruments." He informed her. "Izzy says that Maryse and the Inquisitor have been fighting for hours and no one knows we're gone yet."

Eliza put her seraph blades on her belt. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Lucky us."

Jace handed the phone back to Clary. He looked at Luke next. "The Inquisitor's son. Eliza said she thinks he died. Is that why she hates us so much?"

Luke shoved his hands in his coat pockets, kicking some of the pebbles. With a sigh, he turned to Eliza. "How did you know?" He asked lowly.

She shrugged, letting her arms fall to her side. "Valentine used to show me his book of the Circle. It was the only time he actually seemed to enjoy having me around. He was reliving his glory days. I used to flip through it when I was younger, recite the oath so I could please him. I remember seeing the group photos. And Stephen Herondale. He was handsome." Luke asked how she knew that he was dead. "She looks like she's in pain when someone says his name." She told him. "And she told us that Valentine didn't deserve to have us returned living. He deserved to hold the bodies of his lifeless children and know that there was nothing he could do to fix it."

Luke whistled darkly. He adjusted his glasses. "Stephen's death took its toll on her." He finally said. "He was the apple of her eye, everyone's golden boy. Stephen was probably one of the best people I knew. Good at everything, but humble. Nice, but still interesting enough to talk to. He was, as you put Eliza, handsome." Luke laughed under his breath. Clary asked if Stephen had gone to school with them. "Not exactly. Back then, the Herondales ran the London Institute and Stephen went there. He moved back to Alicante after he graduated. I saw him a lot more once he got married." Luke said wistfully. His eyes were on the East River, his gaze far away as if he were remembering another life. Maybe he was.

"He was in the Circle with you." Clary stated.

"No." Luke said thickly. "After I was turned, Valentine needed a new lieutenant and he chose Stephen. You can only imagine how hysterical that made Imogen." He explained to them. Eliza said it probably drove her mad. "She tried everything to get him out but he eventually cut her off. He wouldn't even speak to his father after. He became Valentine's second shadow." Luke's voice cut off. His eyes darkened. "Your father didn't like Stephen's wife. He didn't find her suitable for his second in command. He didn't find her family ties very…fitting." He sounded pained, as if the memories physically hurt him. Clary drew closer to him. "Under Valentine's influence, Stephen divorced Amatis and remarried a member of the Circle. Céline was only eighteen, but she was undyingly loyal to Valentine. When Stephen was killed in a vampire nest raid, Céline killed herself. She was pregnant, around eight months if I remember correctly. And then Stephen's father died, of a heartbreak, they say." Luke's words became estranged and too pained to listen to.

As much as she hated the Inquisitor, Eliza sympathized for her. Her entire family wiped out in one fell swoop. Her husband, her son, daughter-in-law, and grandchild. All because of Valentine.

"The Bone City wouldn't accept Céline or the child's ashes because she had killed herself." Luke continued on. Imogen buried them at a crossroads just outside the city. She was offered the Inquisitor position after the former was killed during the Uprising. I don't think she has ever spoken of her family since." Luke finished the unbearably sad tale of the Inquisitor's tragedies. "Eliza, you were right. It explains why she hates Valentine so much. And the two of you."

Jace's face hardened. "He poisons everything he touches."

Luke, very thinly, said no. "He has sinned, perhaps more than anyone, yet he still has his son and his daughter, his children. And she has nothing." Eliza said that he had two daughters, glancing at Clary. "Imogen doesn't count Clary. She doesn't bear the stain of his influence the way the two of you do. He didn't raise her. She blames him more than anyone for Stephen's death." Jace said it was Valentine's fault. He had sent Stephen on the vampire raid. Luke shook his head. "Valentine only accepted those who were absolutely willing into the Circle. He never forced anyone to do anything. He offered choices and some chose wrong."

Clary said it was free will. "It isn't." Jace countered her. "He-."

Luke stopped him. "Gave you a choice?" He asked sharply, turning to Jace. "When you snuck off to see him, dragging your sister. He offered you the choice to stay with him or to leave, didn't he?" Jace locked his jaw, saying yes tightly. He turned to the water. "And you said no, didn't you?"

"I'd give anything for people to stop assuming that."

Eliza's mind tingled just as Luke paused his words. "Magnus." She said quietly. She turned from the water to look back at the factory. Magnus was walking towards them, his dark hair slicked back behind his ears. He wore a dark colored suit and a black frock coat.

"Why do you all look surprised?" Magnus asked. Jace said that he was late. "I had to prepare. This isn't easy and I'm a little drained, I may admit." He asked Luke how his arm was holding up and Luke told him it was doing fine and thanked him again for the help.

Luke and Magnus left to go to the truck. Jace's jacket was on the ground. His shirt was lifted up and Clary was etching a rune onto his shoulder blade. Her heart constricted, her stomach swirling.

"What are you doing?" She asked, clearing her throat.

Jace half-turned his head to look back at her. "Clary is putting the Fearless rune on me." He winced in the middle of his sentence.

"Done." Clary said, backing away. Jace let his shirt fall back down.

 _Fearless_. For Agramon. She thought of that…that scene. Jace. Jonathan. The blood. The cold of Jace's body and the dead of his eyes. "Put it on me." She ordered Clary. Clary looked uneasy. "Do it."

She strode over to Clary and put Clary's stele back in her hand. "Where?" Clary asked quietly.

She thought for a moment. Runes were stronger the closer they were to the heart. Jace had placed his on his shoulder blade. "Right here." She pointed to the open spot on the undamaged side of her neck. Close to the chest.

She turned her head to the side as Clary got to work. Her hand was a little heavy on the stele. Eliza winced as the stele burned into her skin. She cast her eyes to the sky. The sun was setting, the sky turning shades of red and pink.

"Finished." Clary backed away from her. She put her stele away.

Eliza's fingers danced over the new Mark carefully. She didn't _feel_ different. But she supposed the time to tell would come when she faced Agramon again. "Mark her." She told Jace, pointing to Clary.

She watched Clary roll up the sleeves of her shirt to show her bare arms. Jace took out his stele and went to work. Clary had a newly made Mark on her left arm. It wasn't any Mark that Eliza had ever seen before.

"What is that?" She asked, pointing to the Mark.

Clary said she didn't know. "It came to me in a dream." She admitted.

Magnus was walking back towards them. " _'And the Lord said unto him, Therefore whosoever slayeth Cain, vengeance shall be taken on him sevenfold. And the Lord set a Mark upon Cain, lest any finding him should kill him.'_ " Magnus' voice wafted over her, eerily cool. His black coat billowing back in the light breeze.

"You know the Bible?" Jace asked, his voice only slightly amazed.

Magnus nodded. "I think that Cain wore the first Mark." He said. "It protected him the way yours protect you."

Clary said that Cain wasn't an angel, he had killed his brother. Eliza smiled cruelly, her eyes glinting dark. "And I'm planning to kill my father. The only difference is that he deserves it and Abel didn't."

Luke's truck drove towards them, parking on the pebble beach. Luke didn't get out. "Get in. We're going." Magnus told them.

Clary frowned. "Are we driving to the boat…?" She asked slowly.

Magnus didn't answer her question. He told them to get in the bed of the truck. He got in the cab with Luke and shut the door. Eliza rolled her eyes and climbed into the bed. She helped Clary up and waited for Jace to get in.

"Interesting." She murmured. Magnus had placed a black pentagram on the truck bed, demonic runes swirling all around it. She sat down close to the window of the cab. Clary sat up against the spare tire. Jace sat at the far end away from them. Clary was staring intently at the pentagram, trying to read the runes. "They're demonic." Eliza told her. "We can't read them because we don't know them. But warlocks use them for magic."

Before Clary could put together an answer, Luke leaned out his window to look back at them. "Just so we're clear, I don't like this plan." He reminded them. They all said that they knew that. "Clary, you're staying in the truck with Magnus. Jace, Eliza, and I are going to go up to the ship."

Clary said she understood. Jace mumbled something she couldn't quite hear. Luke started the truck again. The tires squealed against the pebbles and started into the water. As the truck lurched into the water, Eliza's head banged against the cab window. She cursed under her breath, clutching the back of her head.

When she looked at the cab, she saw that it was filled with bright blue columns of light. The truck felt as if it drove over a speedbump and then it felt like they were flying. She felt as if she were on a demon bike again, flying through the city. She looked over the edge of the bed.

The truck was gliding over the water. The tires were barely touching the water's surface.

 _You never fail to amaze me_ , she told Magnus.

In her mind, she heard him chuckle. _I am eternally amazing, little dove_.

She leaned her head against the cab window. The sunset on the river turned the water gold. Right in the middle of her sight was Jace. The sun itself. The beauty of it almost made her forget that she was about to kill her father.


	22. Chapter 22

Dusk had not lasted very long. The sky, brilliantly and vibrantly pink had quickly turned dark. With the night came the chill of the air. It didn't bother her as much as it should have. Goosebumps covered her arms, but years of training and adrenaline were keeping her warm.

Clary, poor untrained Clary, sat next to her shivering. Even with a jacket. "Cold?" Jace asked Clary. He moved from the front of the bed to sit in between them. Clary asked if he was cold and he said no. Eliza watched from the corner of her eye as Jace took of his jacket and gave it to Clary. "Are you going to stay in the truck with Magnus?" He asked.

"Was I really given a choice?" Clary asked wryly.

"No." Eliza told her sharply. "The truck is the safest place. For you and Magnus." She glanced back into the cab of the truck. Valentine hated Downworlders and he especially hated Magnus.

Clary nodded solemnly. "You guys are going to find Simon. And you'll bring him back." She said quietly.

Jace and Eliza looked over at each other. They both wore the same expression on their faces and they were both thinking the same thing. Simon could be dead.

"Clary," Eliza said slowly, "it may be too late for Simon. And Maia." She spoke carefully, unsure of how Clary would react. Based on how she reacted when Simon was turned into a vampire, it probably wouldn't go well.

Clary shook her head furiously at her words. "He's okay. I know he is." She sounded more sure of that than of anything else she had ever said.

Eliza hoped that, for Clary's sake, he was. Jace nudged her, looking at her with deep golden eyes. "Liz, there's something I want to tell you before we get to the ship." His voice was quiet, words urgent. She glanced behind him. Clary had turned, her eyes on the water. "I was afraid before, but I'm not anymore."

She fought back a groan. Jace really did have the worst timing in trying to tell her important things. Which, she supposed it wasn't really him but rather the Fearless rune burning on his shoulder blade.

"Maybe now isn't the time, Jace." She murmured.

His eyes softened and she was reminded of a time they had gone through the same conversation it seemed. Was he trying to tell her the same thing?

"Now is the perfect time." He responded. "Who knows what's going to happen once we get on that ship…" His voice trailed off. His tongue darted from his mouth, swiping over his bottom lip. "Liz, I l-." His eyes widened and she realized that he wasn't staring at her anymore. His gaze had drifted past her to the river. Or rather, what was on the river. She saw it in his eyes, the ginormous shadow.

She turned back to see what he was looking at. Her father's ship towered over the truck, casting a ghastly shadow over the East River. Jace stood, pulling her to her feet. She craned her neck to look up at the ship. She could make out the ladder that ran up the side of the ship. There were gigantic birdlike creatures atop the ship, heads swiveling this way and that, taking in everything. They reminded her of Hugin and Munin, watching and reporting. Spies.

She could hear Jace saying something, but the words were lost in the sound of the ship's engine burst.

"I can't hear you." She shouted.

Jace whipped around to Clary in a blur. He moved swiftly, pulling her seraph blade from under his jacket and thrusting it into her hand. "They're coming." His voice was rough. Clary asked who he was talking about. He pointed up. "Demons."

The birdlike creatures that had once been perched atop the ship were flying from the ship. Dropping down into the air like stones and then spreading their wings to even themselves. Heading right to the truck.

Eliza took out a seraph blade, tightening her grip on it. What the hell were those things? As they got closer, she saw that they weren't actually large birds, but rather leathery creatures with sharply made heads. When they opened their mouths, she saw their numerous rows of shark-like teeth.

"Ugly little bastards, aren't they?" Eliza quipped.

Jace hopped onto the side of the truck and onto the top of the cab from there. Telantes was glowing brightly in his hand. One of the creatures got close enough to the truck that if Eliza wanted to, she could have jumped up and grabbed it. Jace threw his seraph blade into the air. It whizzed, slicing through the demon's head. The demon sent out a high-pitched noise and fell into the water. Where it had landed, the water sizzled.

They were bombarded with them. One landed on the windshield and Eliza heard Clary scream for Luke. Another dived towards Clary. Eliza was moving to throw Clary out of the way when she _felt_ one near her.

Her eyes shot upwards to see it coming right for her. She waited, her breath in her throat. She held the seraph blade behind her back. It was getting closer. She exhaled just as it opened its mouth, more than ready to tear her head off. Her arm moved impossibly fast, jutting out with the blade just as the demon was about to hit her. She shoved the blade into its mouth, cutting off the screech. She yanked the blade out as the demon combusted into a cloud of smoke.

She grimaced, turning around to Jace and Clary. Both of them were staring, though Jace's was more of an infuriated glare. Jace hopped off of the top of the truck, killing another demon with his dagger.

Another demon flew down towards Clary as she asked what they were. The sharpened bone at the end of its wing slashed into Jace's jacket, tearing a large gash in it. Jace stabbed the dagger into the creature, his golden eyes burning. "I loved that jacket, damn it."

Two demons landed on the cab of the truck, using their razor-sharp claws to tear away at the metal, trying to get inside. She peered around the side of the truck. Luke was standing on the hood, fighting the demons off with his _kindjal_. He managed to kill one of them. It seemed to scare the other off and the demon bird took off into the air, the top of the cab in its claws. It headed back for the ship.

She saw Magnus' form slumped over in the truck, looking unusually grey. She shoved past Jace, running to Magnus. She put her hands on his face. "Are you alright?" She asked urgently.

He tried to sit, but fell over again. "I'm fine." He managed to breath out. "Just drained. I'm very drained." She sunk down to her knees, letting her hands fall. "Your father has placed a great deal of protection on his ship. Stripping the wards and keeping them down is more difficult than I imagined it would be. But if I don't keep them down, anyone who steps foot on that ship that isn't Valentine will perish." Luke suggested he come with them. Eliza said that sounded like a good idea, then they could protect him. "No. It won't work like that." Magnus informed them. "You wouldn't want me in a fight anyways. I'd do more harm than good, I'm afraid." He grinned tightly, the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

His cat-like eyes widened as he stared past her. "Liz!" She heard Jace shout.

She felt it before she knew what was happening. Immense pain in her shoulders, like they were being torn off. And then she was in the air. Her legs kicked and she felt blood flowing onto her arms. She looked up. One of the bird demons had grabbed onto her and was flapping into the air. Jace jumped, grabbing onto her leg. He tried to pull her down but the demon was stronger. Its claws dug into her skin and she couldn't help but scream at the pain. Jace fell down onto the truck, staring wide-mouthed up at her.

Another of the birds swooped down from the other side, grabbing onto Clary while Jace and Luke were distracted. It took off, going quickly back to the ship, howling out triumphantly into the night.

Eliza clamped her mouth shut, holding onto her seraph blade with an iron grip. She knew exactly where she was going. The creatures were taking them back to the ship, no doubt as bait for Valentine. Well, Clary would probably be the bait. Valentine wouldn't leave the death of his eldest daughter to a demon or the Inquisitor. He would want to do it himself.

* * *

Clary's screams had echoed through the air as the demons carried them away from the truck. The truck, Jace, Luke, and Magnus had dissolved into the water as they went hundreds of feet into the air. The demon dove down, barreling towards the ship. She winced, bracing for an impact that never came.

They were inside the ship, below the deck. The demon continued its descent, going deeper and further than she had imagined the ship went. She tried to take in the surroundings as they flew by, but everything blurred at the speed the demon was going and she could hardly make any of it out except for the machinery of the ship.

It was colder inside the ship than it had been outside. Her shoulders had numbed from the pain, but she could feel the slickness of blood running down her arms, chest, and back. The demon turned sharply, flying down a dimly lit corridor. Behind her, she heard Clary shout out wordlessly.

All of a sudden, the demon dropped Eliza. She braced herself, getting into crouching position so if she landed on her feet, her legs wouldn't break. It worked, surprisingly in the dark. Her feet hit hard metal surface. She heard the demon fly off and looked back. The other had dropped Clary and she had landed on her side.

Eliza ran over to her, helping her to her feet. "Are you okay?" She asked, inspecting Clary for any injuries. Her eyes raked over her sister's face for damage but she saw nothing.

Clary brushed off her clothes. "No." She shook her head. "You worry like Mom does." She told Eliza, half-smiling.

Eliza grinned back at her. "That's my job, as your big sister."

"You're bleeding." Clary whispered. Clary was looking at her shoulders. Eliza glanced at both of them. Each shoulder had three deep gashes from the demon's claws. The blood had oozed from the wounds, running down her chest, arms, and probably her back as well.

"Clary? Eliza?" A hushed voice called out. Both of them whipped back. Maia was huddled in the corner, blood matted on the side of her head.

Clary ran to the werewolf's side, looking at her wound. "Oh my God, you're alive." Eliza heard Clary whisper. Clary was looking fervently around the room. For Simon, Eliza realized.

But the room was empty, save for the two Shadowhunters and the werewolf girl. Eliza swallowed, a sick feeling filling her gut. If Simon wasn't there, that meant-.

"Clary, I'm sorry." Maia murmured. "Simon is dead."

The noise Clary made hurt her heart. Simon had been her best friend, her anchor through all of the madness of the Shadow World. Because of Clary, Simon had died once and been turned into a vampire. And now, because of her again, Simon was dead. Really dead.

Eliza sat down. She looked up at the square opening above them. The moonlight filtered dimly into the room, providing a small amount of light. She leaned her head against the wall.

Soon enough, one of them would come. Jace or Valentine. Salvation or doom.

She took her sword from her back. The ruby glittered in the moonlight. Whichever came first, she would be ready.

* * *

"There's no way he's dead." Clary finally spoke.

Eliza looked up from her sword. She gave her sister a sympathetic look. "Clary, I'm sorry." She sighed.

She shook her head, saying there was nothing to be sorry about. "He isn't dead." She insisted. "I would know. I'd feel it in my heart." She put her hand on her chest.

Maia's brown eyes had the same sad, sympathetic look in them that Eliza's did. "You would think." She whispered softly.

Clary got to her feet. Jace's jacket hung off her body limply. It had taken the majority of the damage from the demons. She shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. "How?" She managed, words ragged. "How did it happen?" She asked Maia.

Eliza looked at Maia. She had a feeling that she already knew what happened. "Valentine brought us both here. He came in with a sword. It was big and it glowed." Maia told them.

"Maellartach." Eliza grimaced. "The Angel's Sword." _Phaesphoros_ didn't glow.

Maia nodded wordlessly. "He threw silver powder in my face. And…and then he shoved the sword through Simon's throat." Eliza pushed the image of poor Simon being slaughtered by her father far from her mind. "He slit his wrists and put the blood in bowls. Some demons came in and took the bowls. And then he left." Maia sounded defeated, like she had fought for days in a never-ending battle. "He just left Simon's body there. I screamed so much he moved me to this room."

Clary put her hand to her mouth, her green eyes shaded. Was she…biting herself? "We need to get out of here." She took her hand from her mouth. Eliza spied dots of blood on the back of her hand.

"No kidding." Maia said dully. They all three looked up at the square opening above them. "That's high, even for a Shadowhunter. Maybe J-."

"Maybe Jace could do it?" Clary asked darkly. "Well, he isn't here." She rammed her foot against the wall.

Eliza stood up. She sheathed her sword and checked her weapons. She still had four throwing knives. Both Atheed and Jahoel were on her belt still. "He isn't, but I am." She muttered. The jump had to be smaller than the Malachi Configuration.

Clary looked back at her. "You can't." She was insistent. "I need you here. With me." There was a plead in her eyes.

Eliza glanced up once more at the square hole. It would have been an easy jump. But Clary, her sister, the girl she had sworn to protect, was begging her to stay. Clary wasn't properly trained and Maia was injured.

Her shoulders ached once more, pain throbbing like her heartbeat. Blood still pulsed slowly through the wounds. Her head felt light and airy. She recognized the feeling all too well. She was losing too much blood. It didn't scare her, not like it had the night they escaped from the Hotel Dumont. But she knew that she couldn't go much longer losing blood the way she was.

"Can you do an _iratze_?" Eliza asked her sister. "I won't be much help without it." Clary moved over to her. "Besides, yours will be much more powerful than mine." Eliza reminded her. Clary took out her stele and Eliza showed her the spot on her arm where several past healing runes had been made. She watched Clary draw over the spot, replacing the silvery scar with fresh black. Clary's eyes met hers. "Perfect, thank you."

Eliza took out her own stele and found a black spot under her collarbone. She began her own work. "What are you doing?" Clary asked her. "Extra strength?"

She shook her head. " _Amissio_." She stated. "It'll slow the blood loss while the wounds heal up and speed up the blood replacement. So, hopefully, I won't pass out." She finished the Mark and put her stele back in the brace on her arm. She flexed out her fingers, already feeling better. She could feel the skin tightening on her shoulders. "Now, how the hell are we getting out of here?" She put her hands on her hips.

Clary showcased her stele, holding it up for Maia and Eliza to see in the light. "You and Jace have your talents. I have mine." She put the tip of her stele against the wall and began carving furiously. Eliza saw the smoke and heard the sizzle of the metal wall and Clary drew something out.

Eliza stood, breath in her throat, as Clary continuously slammed her stele against the metal wall. She saw intricate black lines indicating Marks but had no idea what they were. Clary drew back, out of breath.

Eliza stepped forward, staring at the newly made rune on the wall. She had never seen it before. "What is that one?" Maia asked quietly. Eliza said she wasn't sure. Around the Mark, the wall melted. Literally. It burned and dripped down. Eliza's eyes slid over to Clary, who looked just as amazed.

A large hole formed in the middle of the wall. She could see metal beams that held the ship up that had been behind the wall. The hole sizzled but had stopped melting.

Maia stood up, walking towards the wall. Clary grabbed her to stop her from getting closer. "It could be made of something bad. Like toxic sludge or something." She told her.

Maia smiled wryly. "I grew up in Jersey. I can handle it." She tore away from Clary. She stared through the hole, investigating whatever was on the other side. "I see a metal catwalk over there. I'm going to get myself through." Maia turned and stuck her feet through the hole. She moved awkwardly and then stopped suddenly. "My shoulders are stuck. I need a push." She wiggled her hands.

Clary stepped towards her and pushed on Maia's hands violently. The push was enough. Maia's face went bright red and she fell back through the hole, yelping. Eliza heard something crash. Clary asked if Maia was okay on the other side, peeping through the hole.

Eliza heard Maia say something about her ankle, but she was otherwise all right. Clary looked back at Eliza. "I'm going to go through." She said. She told her to be careful.

Clary began to slide through the hole. Someone grabbed Eliza by the back of the shirt, shoving her to the ground. She landed on her elbow, pain shooting up her arm. She looked up.

Tall, intimidating, broad-shouldered. A crown of white-blonde hair. Valentine. He held a seraph blade in his other hand, named and ready to use.

He spared her only an annoyed look before seizing Clary by her shirt and yanking her from the hole. He held her in the air for a moment and she heard her gasp for air. Valentine dropped her to the floor. Clary turned on her back, staring up at their father.

"I have such insolent children." He sneered. "You both take after your mother."

Clary swallowed. Eliza stood up. He glowered down at her, disdain written on his face. "It's past sundown." She noted. He said that was correct. "I knew you wouldn't take the deal." She told him. "I told the Inquisitor she was being foolish, assuming that you loved us the way she loved Stephen."

For once, he looked surprised by her words. She had never been able to surprise him, not really. "What do you know about Stephen Herondale?"

She took out her seraph blades, spinning them in her hands. "Your book of the Circle. He was your lieutenant after Luke was turned. And you sent him in to raid a vampire nest where he was killed." She repeated what Luke had told them earlier. "Clary, back up." She told her sister, not tearing her eyes away from her father.

Clary pulled herself onto her knees, her lip bleeding. Her face was dark with rage. "Where is the werewolf?" He looked around the room. "Where did she go?" Clary spit on his shoes, more blood than saliva it appeared. Valentine took a harsh step backward away from her. His arm raised, the seraph blade glowing over top Clary.

Eliza rolled onto the floor, standing to put herself between her sister and her father. "You won't touch her." She hissed.

His dark eyes darkened as he stared down at her. He said nothing, lowering the angel blade. He walked right past them. He looked through the hole and she heard the heavy breath through his nose. She knew that breath. Anger.

She kept her arm out, shielding Clary from him. All of a sudden, Valentine pushed her aside and kicked something away with his foot. Clary's stele, Eliza saw. She heard it clink as it fell through the hole.

Valentine stood straight. "My demons will find the werewolf girl." He assured them, his voice colder than the air. He put his seraph blade away. "You will realize that there is nowhere to go." He ordered Clary to get to her feet and she did. "Eliza, put those away." He pointed his finger at her seraph blades. "Before you hurt yourself."

She glared at him. She didn't feel it, the unsettledness that always found itself in her stomach whenever she looked at her father. Fear, she realized, it was gone. Clary's rune had worked. "I won't hurt myself. But I can't say the same for you." She told him.

He looked amused with her, like she was a toy. "My dear," he sighed heavily, "it will do you no good to fight me. You know I am superior."

She smirked at him. "I've learned a thing or two since our last fight, Father. I think that, for once, you would be impressed." She informed him.

His eyebrows raised high. "I was never disappointed in your fighting skills, Eliza. Only your complete disregard for authority. Specifically, my authority." She told him that that aspect of her hadn't changed at all. The Inquisitor liked to call her insolent and defiant. "Imogen always did have a way with words." He murmured. "Now, put your weapons away before I make you sorry."

She lunged, one seraph blade pointed towards his chest and the other curved towards his back. He side-stepped and she stumbled, but quickly regained her footing. She turned and jumped into the air. Just as she was over him, she pushed her weight down, landing on his shoulders. She tightened her thighs, wrapping her legs around his arms like a python. She flipped the seraph blade in her hand, ready to plunge it down into his chest.

He reached up and grabbed her by the elbows. With brute force, he flipped her over his head and slammed her on the ground. Her head banged against the hard metal. She winced, looking up at him.

"I warned you." He growled. "Now get up."

She looked over at Clary. She had the same look on her face as earlier: _Please. Don't make it worse_.

Eliza got to her feet, sheathing both her seraph blades back in her belt. Valentine reached out, grasping both his daughters by their shoulders and yanking them close to him. He turned them, their backs to his chest. A low whistle escaped his lips. It was the same whistle he had once used to call Hugin and Munin to him.

She looked up. One of the demon birds was flapping down towards them. Its leathery wings closed around them and she felt her feet lift from the ground.

Bitterly, she realized that it was the first time her father had ever hugged her.

* * *

The bird demon flew through the air at startling speed, considering that it was carrying three Shadowhunters, one of which was a large man. She tried to struggle against Valentine, but he had a death grip on her. The demon once again wrapped its arms around them and spiraled through a narrow tunnel. When they entered the large room on the other side, the demon sat them down gentle and flew away.

Valentine let them go. Clary stumbled back and Eliza steadied her. She glanced around the room. It was large, much larger than the one they had been in before. There was machinery around the walls that had been lined to create an empty square space in the middle of the room, which they stood in.

Around them were four basins, large enough to sit in. Two of them were stained a rusty brown color, the third filled with a dark liquid, the fourth empty and clean. Eliza clutched Clary's hand tightly. She knew what was in the third basin.

On top of the footlocker was Maellartach. Her father had laid a large cloth between the Soul Sword and the metal footlocker. The Angel's Sword glowed, not the way that seraph blades did. It was dark, an ominous glow.

She could pick it up, use it to control the demons on the ship. Use it to kill Valentine. Have the demons destroy themselves. And then everything would be over.

"And dusk will come." She murmured.

She took a slow step forward. She was ready to dart, to go for the Sword before Valentine would be able to grab her and throw her back down to the floor. Clary's voice startled her into stopping. "How could you!" She shouted. "Simon was just a boy! Just an ordinary, human boy!"

Valentine wore an unusually passive look on his face. "He wasn't." He replied evenly, velvet voice over calm words. "He had turned into a monster. A monster with the face of the friend is the worst kind. They trick you into trusting them."

"He was still Simon." She hissed at him.

Eliza's eyes darted to the Sword. It wasn't that far. She could move while Clary distracted him, distraught and mourning for her friend.

"I understand more than anymore." Valentine told Clary. The light from above poured down on him. The light of the moon.

Her heart sped up. The moon. Her.

She looked to the Sword again.

"I felt the same as you do now, when Lucian was first bitten. It changes, you will recognize the monster within and forget the disguise of the friend." Valentine continued, eyes fixed on Clary. Clary reminded him that he put a dagger in Luke's hand and told him to end his own life. "A mistake, I admit." Valentine sighed. "I should have killed him myself. Then he would have known I cared."

Clary's green eyes flamed with fury. "You haven't ever cared about anyone." She spat at him. "Not my mom. Not even Jace or Eliza. They're your toys, your belongings. That's all they are to you."

Valentine laughed lowly. "That's what love is, Clarissa. It's ownership. The Song of Songs said it best: 'I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine,'." Clary told him that she didn't think he understood the Bible very well.

Eliza looked at Clary. She as well was inching towards the footlocker. _Smart sister_ , Eliza thought. He couldn't take both of them. One of them would get it and one of them would kill him.

"That isn't love." Eliza spoke, drawing his attention. "Love is…It isn't that." She said, the words jumbling in her brain. The Fearless rune burned harshly on her neck. "Love is giving yourself to someone completely, wholly. You have never given anyone anything but ruin and destruction. And that isn't love. Love isn't destructive or 'belonging' to someone. Love isn't whipping someone or locking them in a Malachi Configuration for three days, starving them. You don't know what love is." Her words were cruel, biting, cold. She spit them out like fire. Her eyes had faded from a brilliant green to a dangerous black.

He wore a thin smile as he stared at her. "And you? You know what love is?" He asked. She opened her mouth but had no words to speak. She hadn't expected him to answer like that. "Ah, yes, I forgot. You've given yourself to someone. Or two, so my sources say." Surely he didn't mean… "The vampire, correct? The head of the London clan, Declan Kensley." He said the words like they were poison. She hated Declan's name coming from his mouth. "Vampire filth. The moment I see him, I'm going to drive my sword through him. But, while he has lasted, he has made a great decoy for your true feelings." She wished she were afraid. Fear would have been better. The rune had brought a dangerous recklessness to her. "For Jonathan."

Not Jonathan. Jace. Her sun. She stopped mid-step. "I don't know what you mean." She said, her words a little more unsteady than she had hoped. She was _so close_ to the Sword. She could have grabbed it if she wished.

"I am no fool, Eliza." He snapped. "I've noticed the way he looks at you, the way he says your name. The way you look at him. I know how you feel and I know how he feels." She let her eyes wander to Clary. She felt like she was going to throw up. No one could know. No one was supposed to know. "It's my fault." He told her. "I will take the blame. I should have raised the two of you together, but I was only trying to keep both of you safe. If I would have raised you together, the way you came into the world, you would have both developed that natural revulsion towards each other that siblings have." His eyes were cold, his words colder. She knew the chill she felt was from the air and not from him. As long as the rune was on her, she wouldn't be afraid. "Though, I shouldn't really be surprised. There is that unusual closeness that twins have to each other…"

Siblings. Twins. Lies.

He knew that Jace wasn't her brother, that he wasn't Jonathan. They both knew that. But no one else did. Only the two of them and the real Jonathan. Clary thought that they were twins. Jace thought they were twins.

The lie felt heavy on her heart. She had done it again, spoken the words so carefully, so sure of herself. With confidence, she had spilled the lie through her lips. And for good measure, she had told Jace that he was the older twin. All to protect him.

"It's a lie." She managed to speak. "We're brother and sister. Twins. There's only the love of siblings, nothing more." She told him.

Valentine stepped out of the light of the opening in the ceiling. Shadows played across his face. "You forget that I spoke with Jonathan before you woke up last night. After you encountered the fear demon. I saw his face. I saw your face." He was going to do it. He was going to say the words and ruin everything. Like he always did. Poisonous and vile. "Agramon came to you in the form of Jonathan, did it not? Lifeless." She closed her eyes, the image shocking into her mind. Dead eyes. Bloody. Dying. Dead. "Your greatest fear is losing him, isn't it?" Her hand was on the hilt of Maellartach, just barely. Just enough to be touching the thick metal. She didn't want to but she said yes. "And Agramon came to Jonathan looking like you. Do you know what that means?" She didn't answer. She didn't want to. "His greatest fear, the one thing that Jonathan fears more than anything, is his love for you."


	23. Chapter 23

She should have been up on the deck, killing whatever demons she could. She knew that Jace, and probably Luke as well, were up there, slaughtering as many demons as they could.

But if it were just the two of them, she had an uneasy feeling that they weren't doing too well. Or at all. She realized that she wasn't afraid. Clary's rune had worked a little too well for her liking.

"Don't listen to him, Eliza." Clary's voice sounded so positive, so sure. "He's just trying to get in your head."

Eliza's hand had fallen from the Sword, hanging at her side. "No. I am trying to make you understand." Valentine's voice was thick with meaning.

She stayed silent. "You're trying to use them to hurt each other." Clary snapped at him. "If you thought that, if you really believed it, you would be angry. That's how a real father would be, anyways." Clary told him.

The problem was, Eliza wanted to say, he wasn't Jace's father. That's why he wasn't angry. He could find the amusement in the situation and laugh about it, taunt her and hold it over her head. No one else knew their secret.

"We all share the same blood, Clarissa. I am your father, just as I am Eliza's father. And Jonathan's."

Clary groaned, raising her head. "You aren't my father. Luke is my father. We've had this discussion before." Valentine said she only felt that way because of Luke's relationship with Jocelyn. "They're friends. Only friends." Clary stated matter-of-factly.

Eliza raised her eyebrows. Only friends? She was sure Luke felt a little more strongly than that. And from his expression, so did her father. "Interesting." He murmured. "I think we all know that Lucian would not have endured this tiring life of running and staying in the shadows, the devotion of it all, just for a faithful friendship. Clarissa, my child, you do not understand people and less than that, men." He told her.

She told him he was wrong. Eliza restrained from laughing. "You think everyone needs an ugly motive to do something." Clary said. "You're wrong about both of them, Luke and Jace."

"So, you think love is ugly?" Valentine asked her. "You have a different view of it than your sister, who only sees sunshine and flowers." He sneered. "There is nothing ugly about love. Unless, you believe deep down that Lucian is not human and he is not capable of love." Clary snarled that Luke was human, just as human as she was. More so than Valentine. She called him a bigot. "No, I am not." He said tightly. He took a step and Clary took one towards the Sword. "You see me as a mundane would, because that is how you were raised. Mundanes make distinctions among themselves, distinctions based on religion, race, nationality. All irrelevant. All useless. Though, somewhere deep down, mundanes know that in the world is the _other_ , the ones that are harmful and wrong. We know them as demons, but demons are not visible to the mundane eye. Because of this, mundanes feel threatened by their own kind." He stepped forward, she stepped back.

Eliza backed into the shadows, feeling for her knives. One, two, three…four. All there. She still had both her seraph blades. And on her back, _Eosphoros._ She could kill her father with the sword he made for her.

"I see the truth, what others cannot." Valentine continued. "That is the burden of being a Shadowhunter, a true Shadowhunter. We see what the weaker cannot. The truths of evil stare us in the face and we stare at them back. We know that the evil walks earth, but it is not one of us. It is apart, different. And because of this, what does not belong cannot be allowed to stay here, else it grow like a poisonous flower and choke the life from us all."

 _He_ was poisonous. The flower in the garden that took from the others, that suffocated the others and let them die. He meant demons but spoke of himself. Clary had stopped, her back against the footlocker. So close to the Sword.

Eliza saw the glazed over look on her sister's face. Enthralled by his words, the silk of his voice. And then she snapped out of it. "Luke's not a demon." Clary finally spoke.

Their father looked suddenly very exhausted of the conversation. His eyes were slanted in an annoyed fashion, his shoulders tense. "Untrained, clearly." He sounded bored. "You've no idea what a demon is and what a demon is not. You are charmed by the façade of kindness that Downworlders show to you. I can excuse this, seeing as your sister prefers to…fraternize with them on a more intimate level." Disgust coated his words. "You see demons are malevolent and disgusting beasts that plague the earth and mean us harm. However, demons exist in other places too. They walk in disguise, some of them far worse than the disgusting creatures I've called here tonight." Valentine went into deep and intricate detail of a demon he had encountered once in London who had his servant bring him animals and children. Clary begged him to stop but he continued on. The demon would feast on the animals and the children over the course of multiple days, torturing them and feeding on their pain and cries.

"Enough!" Clary screamed at him. "Stop it!"

Valentine seemed satisfied, a small smile on his lips. Eliza crept forward, stalking in his shadow.

"I kill because I have to. Not because I want to." Valentine said. "Your mother lied to you. She built you a wonderful paradise where nothing bad ever happens and you have always lived in it peacefully, never knowing it was an illusion. Outside of the walls, peering through the glass, have been the demons. Waiting to pull you out of the lie."

"You." Clary hissed at him. "You tore through the wall and dragged me. Not demons. _You_." She pointed her finger at him.

"She has a point, you know." Eliza said from behind him. He swiveled around to face her. She took out _Eosphoros_ and stood before him. His height always startled her, the massive size of her father. A giant in front of an ant. "You did kidnap her mom and leave a Drevak in her apartment."

His lip curled in discontent. "Jocelyn had something I needed." The Mortal Cup.

Eliza raised an eyebrow in question. "And the Drevak demon? An accident or was the flower shop all sold out?"

Valentine's eyes drifted to the short-sword and back to her face. His disappointment of a child, wielding the sword he had made for her, ready to use it against him. "Morning-bringer." He said quietly. "You would use my gift against me?"

She spun the sword in her hand, feeling the bite of the wind as the blade rushed past her arm. "I'll use _all_ of my gifts against you. You did give me quite a few."

He put his hands up. "I never planned on harming the two of you. I need you unharmed." He told her.

She glanced back at Clary, who was frowning. "Why?" Clary asked. He moved aside so that they formed a triangle. He could see both of them clearly. He was aware of the danger of not watching one of them.

He clasped his hands in front of his body. "Your friends will track you down. I'll tell them that if they want the both of you alive, they have to hand over the werewolf girl."

Maia. Two Shadowhunters for a Downworlder. Clary said that they would never make the trade. Eliza lowered her sword. "Yes, they will." She told Clary. She thought of Jace. He wouldn't let Valentine keep her for longer than necessary. Not knowing how much she despised being in his vicinity. "It's the Law." She said. "The Clave requires that, should it happen, Shadowhunter lives are more valuable than that of a Downworlder."

Valentine nodded in agreement, pride gleaming in his eyes. "The Clave and I are not so different." He told them. "In fact, there is very little difference between all of us. Only in method."

Valentine moved forward, closer to Clary. Now the threat since Eliza had lowered her weapon. She had submitted, finally, to his will. Just as Eliza had hoped, Clary moved extremely quick, grabbing the Soul Sword and picking it up. She pointed Maellartach, the tip reaching towards Valentine.

Eliza smiled, raising her sword once more so that _Eosphoros_ was also pointed at him. Right at his back. "Tsk, tsk, Father. Don't you know never to turn your back on the enemy? That was lesson number…seventeen, I believe."

The look of utter annoyance on his face made her heart skip a beat.

The euphoric feeling, however, didn't last for long. Eliza knew the pain of holding the Angel's Sword. She had seen it on Jace's face the previous night. And Jace was a hell of a lot stronger than Clary.

Clary gasped, the Sword falling from her grasp and clamoring to the floor. Before Eliza could even process it, Valentine had picked the sword up and was standing with it leveled in his grasp. Clary was looking down at her palm, a pained expression on her face.

"Clarissa, you must take me for a fool. You couldn't really believe I would let you near a weapon you could use, did you?" He sounded foul, disgusted, disappointed. She knew it all too well. "It seems as though, only one of my children understands the truth."

Clary looked at Eliza. "You don't mean Eliza. She hates you more than anyone." Clary told him. "And Jace. He hates you."

Valentine put the tip of the blade right at Clary's collarbone. "You've said enough." He said shortly. Eliza said a droplet of blood form at Clary's throat. "Tell me, Clarissa, did you mother ever speak of me? Did she ever tell you about your father?" He drawled. Clary said that Jocelyn had only ever said that her father had died. "She never told you that you were different? That you were special?"

Special. Different. Just as he had made them. Bred them. Forced them to be. Demon's blood in their veins, mixed with the Angel's blood. Black and white, Lucifer and Raziel. The Devil and the Angel.

"Do you know why she left me?" He asked. He was staring at her from across the Sword. Close, yet far.

"There was more than one reason?" Clary managed to half-laugh. Eliza admired the audacity.

Valentine did not. His eye twitched. "Your mother told me that I had turned her first born children into monsters. She thought she had left before I could do the same to the third one. But she was too late."

 _Monsters_. The word resonated in her brain. The demon blood. She knew then why Jonathan was the way he was. His cruelty, the aggression, the evil. Why then, wasn't she?

"Father." Eliza spoke, desperately wanting to call his attention. She had her pleasing voice on. Soft, pliant, sweet as honey. He didn't turn. "Father." More demanding this time, her word clipped. But still he did not turn. "Father." Harsh, ice-cold. An order.

His head moved hesitantly, as if he did not want to turn but had no choice. His dark eyes seemed glazed, not quite there. They were wide, disbelief shining through. Her eyes had turned black, void and cold.

"My mother would never say that." Clary said, her words shaking. She was shivering. "Jace and Eliza aren't monsters. And I'm not either."

Eliza's own lip curled. "He doesn't mean J-."

The trapdoor above them fell open. Two dark figures fell through the hole, landing behind their father. He snapped out of the daze.

Eliza's breath caught in her throat. Jace. He held a steel strut in his hand, the jagged end covered in blood. And next to him was…Simon?

Clary shouted her best friend's name. Simon whipped around to look at her. Clary began crying. Valentine turned his head, taking in their company. The Sword dropped just an inch and Clary fell to her knees on the floor. She shook, her body raking with shivers as if she had gone in the snow for an hour with no overclothes on.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Jace asked.

Valentine stood straight, staring Jace down. "Nothing. Yet." He took in Simon's presence, a disgusted look on his face. "Jonathan, what have you done? Why is the revenant still alive? How did it manage to regenerate?" He spoke as if he already knew the answers to his questions. He wanted Jace to confirm them.

"You left me for dead." Simon snapped at him. Eliza was surprised at his vigor. He didn't sound like the old Simon.

Jace hissed at Simon to be quiet. He looked back at Valentine. "I let Simon drink my blood." He said simply.

She thought Valentine was going to drop the Soul Sword. She thought she was going to drop her own sword. Jace had _let_ Simon drink from him? He hated him!

Her father looked pissed. "Willingly?" Jace glanced at Simon before he said yes. "What have you done?" He growled.

"He saved a life. The life of our friend." Eliza told her father. "He gave Simon life where you tried to take it away." Valentine said that Simon was a monster. A monster who would kill again and continue to kill until it was killed. Vampires, he reminded them, were always hungry.

Simon bared his fangs. They rested against his lower lip, a brilliant white. "Yeah, I'm hungry right now." Simon told him. "I could use another drink, but I think your blood would choke me."

Valentine's laugh was hollow. He pointed Maellartach at Simon. "When I take your life with the Angel's Sword, you'll burn."

Wordlessly, Jace, Eliza, and Clary all looked at each other. "The Sword isn't fully turned!" Clary shouted out. "He doesn't have Maia's blood yet!"

Valentine swiveled back to Clary, a treacherous smile on his face. He flicked his wrist and Clary fell. Her body rolled until it hit the wall. Simon started to run to her but Valentine swung Maellartach. Fire rose from the blade and Simon stumbled back.

"Kill the revenant, Jonathan. Kill it now and your transgression will be forgiven." Valentine ordered him, his eyes on Simon. Jace, in an eerily quiet voice, said no. Valentine's eyes hardened. "Take that weapon and shove it through his heart. You know where it is. I taught you." He was aggravated.

Eliza sheathed her sword. Jace had him distracted. She could take him. Tackle him from behind. Knock him down. But the Sword…He had the Sword. It didn't matter. She could take him. Her eyes lifted and her gaze met Jace's.

He knew her, knew her better than she wanted to admit. He saw the gears in her mind, the recklessness that the Fearless rune had brought about. He shook his head once, slow and subtle. _Don't._

"I saw Agramon." Jace said suddenly. "It wore your face, Father." Valentine took a step towards Jace, the Sword wavering in his grasp. Valentine asked how he was alive. "I killed it."

He _what_? He had killed Agramon? The Great Demon. The Demon of Fear. Eliza stood, shell-shocked. Impressed.

"You managed to kill the Demon of Fear, yet you won't kill one vampire?" Valentine asked slowly, words full of anger. "I'm ordering you to kill it."

Jace wore the careless expression she had seen so many times. "His name is Simon." Jace informed him.

Valentine stood still, the Soul Sword pointed directly at Jace. If he moved to hurt him, Eliza would do what she did best. She'd throw a knife and land it in his skull. Maellartach glittered black, threateningly so. She wondered if he was going to stab Jace and if Jace was going to let him. "Does this mean that you haven't changed your mind?" Valentine asked. "The things you told me last night, those are your final words? Or do you regret your disobedience?"

What had he said? What was so important that it was being brought into the conversation? She wished she would have stayed but her anger had been too much.

Jace shook his head. His free hand was moving to his waist, towards his belt. He and Valentine were staring at each other, gold and black. "Yes, Father. I do regret my disobedience." Valentine's face softened and he looked at Jace a way he had never looked at her. That, she realized, was his caring face. Jace's gaze met her own. He nodded once. She slipped a knife into her hand. "I regret my disobedience in the manner that I'm about to do it again. Right now, actually." Jace's hand moved impeccably fast. He threw something through the air at Clary. It landed just inches from her, clinking against the metal floor.

Eliza looked, wondering what Jace could have thrown Clary. And then she saw it. Her stele. Her mouth broke into a smile.

"A stele, Jace?" Valentine laughed. "You've lost your mind."

Clary pushed herself up and grabbed the stele. Her face was agony and Eliza heard Valentine say Clary's name. He started towards her and Eliza loosed the knife. It whizzed past his face, landing in the wall.

"You missed." He said, staring at where the knife had landed. He was reaching to yank it from the wall when she took off running. She jumped from the floor and landing on him, her thighs around his neck. She reached back, yanking the knife from the wall. Tightening her thighs around his throat, she leaned down and shoved the knife into his leg. He yowled with pain as she pulled it out.

She released her legs, flipping back and landing on her feet in front of him. One hand clutched the wound on his leg and the other held the Soul Sword. "I never miss." She told him, wiping the blood on her shirt. She slid the knife back into the brace. The Fearless rune had burned away off her neck, leaving only a silvery scar of remembrance.

"A fool's errand." He told her. "I'll make you pay for that, Eliza."

She smirked back at him. "No. I accomplished exactly what I wanted." She said triumphantly. He asked her what that was. "I gave Clary time to make _that_." She pointed to the Mark that Clary had carved all over the wall. Dark ink was scrawled all over the wall.

Valentine's eyes trailed to the Mark on the wall. She watched his face melt into triumph, horror, despair, and delight. Simon asked what it said. " _Mene mene tekel upharsin_." Valentine said quietly.

Clary stood up. "No." She whispered. "It says _open_." At her word, the Marked wall seemed to scream. It shuddered, warping and tearing. Water began flowing into the room as the wall tore itself apart. Valentine was shouting, but the water drowned it out.

Clary ran towards them, but a surge of water knocked her over. Water pooled at Eliza's feet, cold as ice. The water dragged Clary out of the hole and into the river. Jace grabbed onto Eliza's wrist, only to let her know he was there.

And then the water sucked them out.

The East River water was darker than she had thought it would be. Jace's hand slipped away from her wrist as the water pulled them apart. Millions of tons of water pressed on her. She wanted to breathe but she couldn't. If she was going to die in the East River, that was fine. All she wanted was to see Jace one last time.

And then she was being pulled up, at least she thought it was up. She opened her eyes, the filthy water stinging. Gold, bright gold. _The Angel_ , she thought, _Raziel_. And then it was gone.

* * *

She woke up in the bed of Luke's truck. Jace was leaning over her, muffled voices in the background.

"Thank the Angel." Jace breathed. "We thought you were dead." He gingerly pulled her into sitting position.

She looked around. Luke and Simon were looking at her. Snow was falling around them. It took her a second to realize that it wasn't snow- not in September- it was ash. It had coated Luke's hair. Next to her was Clary, unconscious. The bed of the truck had water in it, not quite up to Luke's ankles. Ash had fallen into the water, mixing in with, making the water a filmy white color.

She remembered the room in the belly of the ship. Stabbing her father. Clary creating an Opening rune that blew the ship apart. And then the water. And the Angel. Lifting her from the water and pulling her to safety.

"Where is he?" She asked, her eyes running over the bed of the truck frantically. He was nowhere to be found.

"Who?" Jace asked. "Valentine? We don't know."

She shook her head. She didn't care about Valentine. Where was Raziel? "The Angel." She coughed, a spurt of dirty river water coming from her mouth. She saw the look that Jace and Luke exchanged, both of them looking concerned. "Raziel." She stated. They stared back at her. "He was here, in the water. He pulled me out."

Jace leaned towards her. His tawny eyes were soft, unreadable. "How much river water did you drink, Liz?" He asked her. "The Angel wasn't here."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Surely…surely the Angel _had_ been there. He had pulled her out of the water, he had saved her. She didn't want them to think she was crazy. She looked down at Clary, still unconscious beside her. Ash was falling to her face, sticking against the water. Eliza reached over and wiped her face as clean as she could get it. "How long as she been out?" She inquired. Luke's words were strained as he told her she hadn't woken up since they pulled her out of the water.

The image of the river dragged Clary out of the ship flashed in her mind. She knew what he meant, the hurt behind his words. Clary could be dead.

Eliza's shoulders sagged. She pushed Clary's hair from her face. She looked so much like their mother. The same hair, vibrant and red. The same eyes, brilliantly green.

Wait. The same eyes? Clary's eyes were open, staring up at her. "Clary." Eliza breathed. She pulled Clary up into a squeezing hug. "Thank God."

Clary hugged her back limply before she pulled away. "Hi." Confused edged her voice and she rubbed her eyes.

Eliza grinned at her, tears burning her eyes. "Sorry." She said quickly. "It's just…I thought…" She didn't even want to say the words.

Clary asked what was wrong. "We thought you died too." Luke told her.

Too? Eliza looked at Jace. Who else had died? What had she missed while she and Clary had been locked away in Valentine's trap. She looked into the cab of the truck. Where was Magnus?

A sick feeling filled her stomach. She stood up, her head swimming. She rushed to the side of the truck and vomited. Jace said her name, his hand on her arm. She waved him away, telling him to put whatever Marks on Clary she needed to feel better.

Luke was standing next to her. "Are you okay?" He asked quietly. She shook her head, saying no. "Consequences of the Fearless rune or something else?" She looked over at him, asking how he knew about the rune. "Jace told me."

Of course he did. "Where's Magnus?" She asked in a soft voice. "Is he…?" She trailed off.

Luke said no immediately. She asked what happened and where Magnus was. He sat on the edge of the bed, hands on his knees. "Something set Valentine's ship on fire. There's nothing left, nothing but ash." She asked again about Magnus. "There are a lot of wounded Shadowhunters. He left to go help as much as he could on the boats. He's safe."

She nodded. Good. He was safe.

 _You can't get rid of me that easy, little dove._ His voice was loud in her mind, jovial though she could sense the exhaustion.

Her heart surged. _I was scared I'd lost you._

 _I'll see you soon, little dove. Worry not_.

She looked back at the others. Jace had finished Marking Clary with _iratze_ runes. "What about everyone else?" Clary asked. "Alec and Isabelle? Maia?"

Luke's face looked grim. What the hell had happened on the top level of the ship? "Malik and Imogen are dead." He reported. The _Inquisitor_? She seemed impossible to get rid of. "Both Isabelle and Robert Lightwood are injured. A lot of people are hurt and a lot are dead." He told them. "No one has seen Valentine so it's safe to say he's disappeared and taken the Sword with him."

Of course, her father had managed to escape with his life and the Angel's Sword while so many others, innocent Shadowhunters, had died fighting against him.

"If I hadn't used that rune, none of this would have happened." Clary said quietly. She averted her eyes to her feet, wet pieces of hair falling in her face.

Luke got up and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. "It isn't your fault." He assured her.

Jace agreed. "Clary, if you hadn't done what you did, everyone would be dead. His army would have slaughtered everyone."

Luke nodded along. "You blew the ship apart. Literally. It tore itself apart, piece by piece. And then it caught fire. We all barely had time to jump. That was…no one has ever seen anything like what you did."

 _Probably because no other Shadowhunter parents had experimented on their children with demon blood_ , Eliza thought wearily. Clary was special, just as their father had told her.

She asked if she had hurt anyone. Jace said that the only ones hurt were the demons who had drowned when the ship went down, but all of the Shadowhunters who hadn't been killed by demons were okay. Clary wryly asked if it was because they could swim.

Jace glanced at Eliza, expression hard to read. "Nixies pulled us all out of the river. Turns out the Seelie Queen planned on keeping her word after all."

Eliza's stomach churned at the thought of the Seelie Queen, with her all-knowing eyes and cunning smile. "Who would have guessed?" She mused bitterly.

Simon noted that the Shadowhunter boats had started to move. Luke said it was time to go. He climbed over into the cab of the truck and started the vehicle. Within seconds, the truck was skimming along overtop the water and they were headed away from the ashy remnants of battle. Eliza held onto the edge of the truck to keep herself steady.

"You don't look good." Jace sat down next to her. She snorted, saying thanks. "I just mean that- never mind." He sighed. "Do you want me to fix it?" She didn't bother saying yes, she knew he would do it anyway. His fingers traced over silvery scars, looking for the place where her Healing rune rested. He found it in the crook of her left arm and took out his stele. It burned only slightly as he traced over the silver Mark, making it new again.

She was feeling much better by the time he had put his stele back away. "Thank you." She murmured, looking out to the river.

She felt his finger on her neck, where the Fearless rune had been. "It's gone." He observed. "Did you see him? Agramon?" She said no. "Then…?"

She looked back at him, green eyes bright as fresh Spring grass. There was a sad look in them. "Do you even have to ask?" He didn't respond. "Father. Tonight was the first time I've ever been in his presence without being afraid of him." She raised her hand to touch the faded Mark, their fingers brushing against each other. "I think it faded after I stabbed him."

Holy shit. She had stabbed him. She had actually managed to sink a knife in him without being hurt.

"That was so cool!" Simon exclaimed from across the bed. Both she and Jace looked at him. Clary was leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. "I mean, you just threw it and when it went into the wall, all I could think was 'oh shit' but then you just took off running and you tackled him and how did you learn to do that? And then you stabbed him! And you did the coolest backflip. And then Clary made the ship explode!"

Eliza let out a quiet laugh. Clary asked what was going to happen to the Lightwoods since the Inquisitor was dead. Jace said he wasn't sure. "I just know they're going to be really interested in what you can do."

Simon's face was green, a little too sickly colored for a vampire. Clary asked what was wrong with him. "Running water and vampires aren't a good mix." He mumbled. Clary asked what happened to him after the ship blew apart. "Jace got me out of the water. There was a floating piece of metal and he got me onto it."

Was he going to throw up? She couldn't handle him throwing up too. "I've been thinking." Clary announced. Jace bemused that that was a dangerous thing in itself. She rolled her eyes. "Do you think…do you think that Valentine drowned?"

"No." Eliza said sharply. They each turned to look at her. Clary asked why she thought that. "Because he's a monster. He'll never die."

Simon said she was right. "You can't believe the bad guy is dead until you see the body." He added.

"If he was dead, the Mortal Instruments would have turned up by now." Jace said. "He's alive and he still has them." Jace looked past him to the reddening sky. "Sunrise." He noted, voice weary.

Eliza's head jerked up to look at Simon. Simon's eyes were on the horizon, watching the edge of the sun creep into view. Jace got to his feet and made his way to the cab of the truck. He bent over, speaking inaudible words into Luke's ear. Whatever he said made Luke turn back to look at Simon and then he turned his attention back to Jace. With a shake of his head, he turned around.

Her heart sank. Just as the truck jutted forward, spraying water on her face. Jace was shouting for Luke to make the vehicle go faster, as fast as he could.

Dawn was coming. It would be fleeting, only a few minutes. But that was all it took to end a life.

"We can cover you with our clothes!" Clary suggested, the hopelessness of her voice was thinly veiled.

Simon said it wouldn't work. Only walls could protect a vampire from the sunlight. Clary argued, saying there had to be something they could do to protect him. Simon embraced Clary, holding her tightly against his chest. She could hear their faint whispers to each other, Clary's rushed and afraid, Simon's calming and sure.

Eliza heard Jace shout something, but the word was lost in the roar of the truck's engine. Eliza looked up at the sky. The rising of the sun had turned it a pink-gold, replacing the dark red. The sun came into full view, golden light shooting through the sky.

She watched Simon's body still, Clary still hanging on to him. His head jerked back and she saw the bright molten gold of his eyes. His skin cracked with black lines. Clary screamed his name out.

Jace walked forward and grabbed Clary by the shoulders. She tried to struggle against him but he pulled her away from Simon, murmuring for her to look. Just to look at him. She begged him not to make her look. Jace tugged down at her wrists, gently forcing them away from her eyes.

He was alive. The sun was up and Simon was alive. The sunlight washed him in golden rays. Eliza exhaled softly. "By the Angel." She whispered. And she knew in her heart, Raziel himself had granted Simon the gift of survival.

* * *

She was finishing up her packing when there was a harsh rapping on her door. She tossed the pair of socks in her hand onto the bed and crossed the room. She opened the door, more than surprised to see Maryse Lightwood in front of her.

"Oh." She scrambled to find words. "Mrs. Lightwood, hi." She stepped aside, waving her arm back. "I was just finishing packing."

They stood awkwardly for a few moments. She looked behind her into the room. "May I?" He asked.

She nodded, stepping aside so she could walk into her room. Curiosity begot her as she looked around her room. It looked bare, most of her belongings piled onto the bed, packed away into suitcases, or away already at Magnus'. "I'm sorry if I sound rude but was there something you needed, Mrs. Lightwood?"

When she turned to her, she wore the kindest of expressions. It made her resolve falter just a little. "Eliza, you can call me Maryse. I've known you since you were a baby."

She added it to the list of things she didn't remember but wished she did. "Right, Maryse." She tried it out. Saying her informal name sounded…wrong. "I'm packing up to leave, so you and Robert don't need to worry about that. But I'm sure if the two of you spoke to Jace, you could talk him into staying."

She nodded, laughing softly. "I'm actually on my way to speak to him, but I thought I would stop in and check on you first." There was something unsettling to her kind words. "There's something I wanted to discuss with you." And there it was. _You're a danger to our children. Cut off your contact with them_. She was sure Jace would receive the same speech. "I've heard…things." She said slowly. "About your life, before you came here. I hope you'll forgive Alexander and Isabelle for sharing with Robert and me."

She locked her jaw. What had they told their parents? "What did they tell you?" She asked. "Izzy is so dramatic sometimes, I can only imagine what she said." She zipped up another suitcase, filled as much as it would go without bursting.

Maryse agreed with another light-hearted laugh. Then, he became incredibly serious. "I have a feeling what they've said is undeniably true." She stared back at her, asking again what they had told them. "I understand that some parents have different methods of disciplining children, Eliza. Perhaps I, sometimes, have been too hard on my children. But I know that what you suffered, what your father did to you, that wasn't discipline. It was torture. An exercise of his power, an extension of his malice. I know I misjudged you and didn't believe you earlier this week, but I hope that you understand it was because of extreme circumstances. I was looking out for my family."

So, _that_ was what they had confided to their parents. She expected nothing less of Izzy and Alec. Both of them were great friends, caring and passionate.

"Nothing short of those things." She told her. She sat down on the edge of the bed. "You know, Jace told me that when he turned five, Valentine told him that he could have anything he wanted. And Jace, he wanted to take a bath in spaghetti." She relayed the story back to her. It seemed like so long ago that Jace had told her. "I thought for sure that Valentine would have laughed in his face, called him absurd and left him alone. But Jace said that he got that spaghetti bath." Maryse cleared her throat. "You know what I got for my fifth birthday? A smack in the face for speaking out of turn. I spent my twelfth birthday locked in a Malachi Configuration for unsatisfactory performance in training."

She was making her uncomfortable, she realized. She hadn't expected her to be so open about it. She honestly hadn't either.

"I am sorry to hear that." Maryse finally said. "Robert and I had a very long discussion about your circumstances and we would like you to know that, should you feel the need or want, you have a place in our home. Our family."

She certainly wasn't expecting _that_. She sat up straight. "That's very kind of you. Thank you, but you don't have to extend an invitation like that to me. You already have three children to care for, as well as Jace."

Maryse gave her a confounded look. "Eliza, we wouldn't extend the offer if we didn't mean it. It would do Isabelle some good to have another girl around, and I know how close you and Alexander are…" Her voice trailed, insinuating the unthinkable. The unimaginable.

"Oh, oh no." She smiled. "Alec and I aren't…we aren't-."

She cut her off. "I know that. It's only a thought. He holds you in the highest of regards. Perhaps if things with you and Mr. Kensley don't work out." She said. "Anyways, Max is also very fond of you. He even let it slip that he thought you were 'badass', though I can't imagine where he learned that word from."

"Izzy, most likely." She snorted and wasn't surprised that Maryse agreed with her.

"That reminds me of what I originally came to tell you. Mr. Kensley is outside of the Institute. He wishes to speak with you. It sounded very urgent."

 _Shit,_ she thought, _I haven't spoken to him in forever. He's probably worried out of his mind_.

She stood up, her pair of socks falling from her bed. "I'm a terrible girlfriend." She muttered. Maryse reminded her of her offer. "Thank you, again. It means a lot. I know how much Jace cares for you." She quickly excused herself.

She raced down the corridors and called up the elevator. It was an agonizing three-minute wait before it appeared. An even longer five-minute ride down to the foyer. She practically stumbled out of the elevator and out the front door.

She saw Declan standing on the sidewalk near the street. He seemed so…mundane, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants, head turned up to the moon.

She slowed her pace as she walked toward him. "I'm sorry. I'm a terrible girlfriend. I should have called or had Magnus write you or something. This has been the most hectic and horrible day and I've had plenty of those, believe me."

He didn't say anything. He just pulled her into a hug, holding her head against his chest. "I'm just glad you're all right, my dear. I've been so worried." He whispered. "Are you hurt?" He pulled away, inspecting her face.

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I promise. Just exhausted."

He picked up her wrists, examining the marks still left by the cuff the Inquisitor had put her in. His caramel eyes flashed. "I'll kill that Inquisitor woman." He growled. In that moment, she could have sworn he was a werewolf. The only thing keeping her from believing it was his fangs pressed against his lower lip.

"She's dead already." She told him solemnly. "She died protecting Jace. She's paid for it, a hundred-fold."

Declan pushed the wisps of hair from her face. "I only wanted to come and see that you were alive with my own eyes." He kissed the top of her forehead. "Go and get some rest, my love."

She watched him walk away. He faded into the night, a shadow in the world of shadows, a Night Child vanishing into his night. Where he belonged.


	24. Chapter 24

City of Glass

Her feet dangled lazily over the end of the couch. Every so often, little pinpricks found themselves against her toes, accompanied by the high sound of a bell dingle. She leaned over, watching the little fluff of a kitten swipe at her feet.

She smiled softly. Chairman Meow always found a way to entertain himself. "Silly thing." She mused.

The door to Magnus' apartment swung open and then slammed shut. The High Warlock of Brooklyn looked like a force to be reckoned with. His hair was spiked dangerously high, purple glitter shimmering on his face. He had fashioned himself in a white lace see-through top and black skinny jeans, with purple platform shoes.

"Lazy Shadowhunter." He rolled his eyes. The kitten hopped up on the couch, curling himself on Eliza's stomach. "Shouldn't you be packing for your trip?"

She ran her fingers through Chairman Meow's soft fur. He purred at the affection. "Already done. I'm relaxing." Magnus mentioned that he had never heard of a Shadowhunter relaxing before. "Perhaps because we don't often get the time." She replied. She sat up, picking the kitten up and cradling him against her chest. "I'll miss you so much, sweet cat. Please be this small and cute when I come back home." Magnus reminded her that she would only be gone a few days. She looked up at him, her fingers still playing with Chairman Meow. He nipped her finger playfully. "So much can change in a few days." She said quietly.

It had only been a week since Valentine had escaped again. With the Mortal Instruments in his possession. She tried her best not to think about where he was or what he was doing. During the day, it worked. She could distract herself with training or hunting or anything. At night, though, she was vulnerable. She fell asleep and reality drifted, and that was when her nightmares came to her.

She never remembered them when she woke. She was only filled with the enormous sense of dread and the vivid picture of her father, holding the Angel's Sword above her.

The one distractor of everything wrong in her life was the trip. They were going to Idris. She was going home. Granted, Idris was home to _all_ Shadowhunters, but she was one of the few who had been raised there. The first seventeen years of her life had been spent there.

This time, Idris would be different. It would be better. She was free to roam and breathe the air, even roll in the grass if she so pleased. She would see Alicante, the City of Glass. It was the most beautiful place in the world. The unknown eighth wonder.

Even though she knew she wasn't going to be free. She was going because she had to. The Clave had called a Council meeting, one of the biggest in history, to deal with the threat of Valentine. Any Shadowhunter who could be spared had to attend. Her attendance was mandatory, more so than anyone else's, because she was his daughter. One of the last people to see him on the ship. She had information others didn't and she was more than willing to share it.

* * *

"You look just like him." The woman sounded in complete disbelief. The two of them shared the same white hair and Eliza hoped there was no relation. She had told Eliza several times in just a short period how much she resembled Valentine.

"Yes. I know." Eliza tried to manage the annoyance in her tone but it was becoming difficult. "It's almost like I'm his daughter or something."

She knew that the woman was friends with Jocelyn. Her mother, she corrected. But she still found her annoying.

The woman, Madeleine Bellefleur had approached Clary at the hospital and told her that she knew how to wake Jocelyn up. That had gotten Clary all riled up about saving her mother and insisting to go to Idris. She had immediately gone to Eliza and Jace and convinced Maryse to let her go to Idris.

After that conversation had bloomed a secret one between Eliza and Jace. One where it was decided that Clary was _not_ going to Idris. Jace said he would handle it and she decided to let him. He would fill her in when he had figured it out. And he did.

Eliza adjusted her gear belt, looking up as Maryse said something to Magnus. She spotted Simon walking towards them. In the midday sun. He was the only vampire who could walk in the sun and none of them knew the reason why.

She nudged Jace, nodding her head towards Simon. Jace said they would be right back and the two of them walked over to Simon. Jace grabbed Simon's arm and pulled him around to the side of the Institute where the others couldn't see.

"Good. You got my message." Jace said.

Both Eliza and Simon looked at him in disbelief. "You asked me to come here?" Simon asked. The two of them weren't exactly best friends. Sure, Jace had saved his life by letting Simon drink his blood last week, but that was where the niceties ended.

Jace said yes. "I asked you to come for a reason. We all have something really important in common, fangs."

Simon didn't flinch at the new nickname but he didn't seem warmed up to it either. He asked what that was. "Clary." Eliza told him. "We all care about her a lot. She's your best friend and she's our little sister. We all want to protect her."

Simon nodded warily. "Simon, this is important." Jace spoke again. "How far would you go to protect her?"

Simon remained silent. Eliza took a step towards him. "Would you lie for Clary? To protect her."

Simon's dark eyes widened. He looked between them and then past them at the group of Shadowhunters and the warlock. Magnus, Alec, Isabelle, Max, Maryse, and Madeleine. He looked back at them. "You're leaving. Right now. You're going to Idris." He stated. They said yes. "Clary thinks that you're leaving tonight." He reminded them.

"We know." Jace told him. "That's why I asked you here."

Eliza crossed her arms over her chest. "We need you to tell the others that Clary changed her mind. That she isn't coming. They'll believe you more than us. She's your best friend."

Simon's brow furrowed as he took in what they were asking him to do. "You're a better liar than me." He told Eliza. "Both of you, probably."

Eliza nodded thoughtfully. She knew that. "I'm the best liar I know. Well, besides my father but he taught me." The air tensed. "That isn't the point, Simon. I could spin a web of lies so fantastic but it wouldn't matter. They won't believe that Clary changed her mind if it's coming from Jace or myself." She explained.

"They know we don't want her to go. It has to be from you." Jace added. Simon said no sharply. He told them that it wasn't to protect Clary at all, it was for themselves.

He turned to walk away and Eliza grabbed him by the elbow, turning him back to face them. She had that dangerous look in her eyes as they darkened. The two of them stared at each other. "We _are_ doing this for Clary, whether you want to believe it or not." There was a darkness in her voice that she couldn't place. Simon said they needed to tell him why Clary couldn't go with them. He said she was excited to see the Shadowhunter home country. She wanted to save their mother, emphasis on the fact that they had the same mother. "You've seen what she can do." Eliza reminded him. "We all have. What she did on that ship…to that ship, no other Shadowhunter can do that." She released his arm.

"She saved us. Everyone." Simon said. Jace shushed him, glancing back at the group. "Who all knows?" Simon asked.

Eliza said not very many people. "The three of us. Luke and Magnus." She said. "A total of six people, including Clary."

"Then what do all the other Shadowhunters think happened?" Simon inquired. "Surely they don't think that his ship just spontaneously combusted."

Jace chuckled, shaking his head. "No. We told them that the Ritual went wrong."

Simon asked how they managed to lie to the Clave like that. Eliza shrugged. "I told you, Simon, I'm the best liar I know. I made everyone think I was an entirely different person for several months, a simple lie to the Clave isn't difficult to get away with."

"Look, Alec and Izzy know that Clary has an ability to create new runes, too. We won't be able to keep it a secret from the Clave for long. But they can't know that she can make our regular runes much stronger." Jace continued. "They'll try to weaponize her, use her as a fighter. And we all know Clary."

Eliza reminded Simon that Clary wasn't brought up to be one of them, definitely not one of their fighters. She told him that being a weapon was what she and Jace were trained for. If it was possible, Simon seemed to pale more.

"Why don't you want what's best for all Shadowhunters?" He asked them. "For the Clave?"

Eliza groaned. Why was he so thick-headed? She leaned her back against the oak tree. "Because they'll put her at the very front of every Shadowhunter force. She'll be right in front of Valentine and we know what he does to threats." She said quietly. "She's my sister, Simon. My little sister. I made a promise that I would protect her and that's what I'm doing."

Simon was about to respond when a high shriek cut through the air. The three of them stared at each other. "What the hell?" Jace whipped around to look behind them.

Eliza's eyes followed his. Several people were shouting out and the sound of metal against metal echoed through the air. Jace took off running, back towards the front of the Institute. Eliza glanced back at Simon. "Stay here." She ordered before running after Jace.

The garden of the Institute was covered by a hazy white mist. A acrid smell burned her nose. She could make out shadows dancing in the mist. She spotted Isabelle's dark braids swinging through the air and heard the sound of her whip cracking.

She saw what Isabelle was fighting. At first, she thought it was a demon, but realized it was sunlight. They couldn't exist in the sun. The attacker looked human enough, at first. But then she saw that it wasn't really human anymore. It swung a wooden plank at Isabelle.

"Forsaken." Eliza mumbled. Jace said there had to be at least a dozen. They were severely outnumbered.

Jace looked behind them and she realized Simon had not stayed put and had followed them. Jace told him to stay back with a ferocity only someone who cared would have.

She delved into the mist first. Something large and hulking came at her and she ducked, pulling her sword from its sheath. The Forsaken towered over her. It reached down and she plunged the sword into its mouth. She pulled it out, dark blood spraying her face. "Gross." She muttered.

She couldn't see anyone else. Only dark shadows. Another Forsaken came for her and she jumped in the air. She landed on its shoulders and it looked up. She shoved the sword down through its skull. It crumbled, falling to the ground and she jumped back to the ground.

"Liz!" She heard Jace shout. She tried to find him through the mist but couldn't make out which figure belonged to him.

And then the mist began to clear. Magnus was standing by the wall of the Institute, hands in the air. Sparks of blue lightening crackled between his hands and the Portal was opening beside him. "Go through now!" He was shouting. "Go!"

She saw Maryse, Max in her arms, dart through the Portal and vanish. Alec had Isabelle in his grasp, dragging her towards the Portal. A Forsaken was tumbling after them, neither of them seeing it. Eliza shouted for Alec and she heard Simon shout for Isabelle. Simon ran after them and fell. Eliza realized in horror what had tripped him.

Madeleine. Or rather, her dead body. Her throat was slit, blood in her white hair.

"Eliza!" Magnus shouted at her. "Now!" She felt herself yanked forward towards the Portal.

"Simon!" She heard Jace shout. Before stepping through, she looked back. Jace was running towards Simon, two seraph blades in his hands. There was a Forsaken standing over Simon, the one that had been behind Alec and Izzy.

She slipped a knife from her brace and let it fly. It hit the Forsaken in the eye just as it stabbed Simon. Jace attacked, slicing his seraph blades through it. She ran to them. The Forsaken fell. "We've got to take him with us." She told Jace. He didn't object. He put his blades away, lifting Simon from the ground. She yanked her knife from the Forsaken's eye and put it back in the brace.

She helped Jace with Simon, putting one of the vampire's arms around her arm. They hauled him towards the Portal. Magnus was giving her the go-ahead, his green cat-eyes somber.

 _Go, little dove. Back to your home country. I will see you soon._ Reassurance flooded her mind.

 _Be careful,_ she told him. _I love you._

 _And I you, little dove. Now go._

Together, Simon over their shoulders, she and Jace stepped through the Portal to Idris.

* * *

She refused to leave Simon's bedside. There was a very limited number a people that he knew in Idris and she was one of them. He had been asleep since they arrived. For once, he seemed big, taking up most of the small wooden bed in the room of the house they were staying in.

She had drawn the dark curtains over the window to keep most of the light out. Even though Simon wasn't able to be harmed by the sunlight, she didn't think he would want to be viciously awoken by the harsh light of the Idris sun. It tended to shine a little brighter in Shadowhunter home country. The pale blue walls of the room were soft, giving it a cozy and homely feel.

Isabelle had been very insistent on being around when Simon woke up. She had fallen asleep in the armchair next to the bed, leaving Eliza no choice but to sit on the floor.

"Eliza?" Simon's voice was raspy. She jumped to her feet and hurried to the side of the bed. He sat up, looking over at Isabelle. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves.

"Hey there." Eliza smiled softly. She sat down on the side of the bed. "How're you feeling?" She asked.

"Like death." He responded dryly. She appreciated the humor.

She reached over, thwacking Isabelle on the leg with her hand. The younger girl's eyes shot open. When she saw Simon was awake, she leaned forward, pushing her hair off her shoulders. "Thank God!" She exclaimed. "Jace will be so glad, we all thought you were going to die."

Simon glanced at Eliza and she gave him a shrug in response. Simon looked around the room. "Where are we?" He asked.

Did he not remember what happened at the Institute? Before she could ask, Isabelle did. Simon said no. "We were attacked by Forsaken when we were getting ready to leave the Institute." Isabelle reminded him. "They were using hellmist to throw us off and we were outnumbered. Magnus opened the Portal to help us escape. There was a Forsaken behind you and Jace tried to get to you in time but the Forsaken stab-." Isabelle's voice broke off. She looked down at the chair, her fingers fiddling with the crochet trim on the upholstery.

"The Forsaken stabbed you." Eliza finished Izzy's sentence. She heard Isabelle cough quietly. "I got it in the eye with a knife and Jace killed it. You were bleeding, a lot. We got you through the Portal."

Isabelle looked back up at them. "The Consul wasn't at all happy when Jace and Eliza brought a bleeding vampire through the Portal." She added.

Simon's dark eyes were wide as he took in what they were saying. "Wait. Hold on. I was _stabbed_?" He asked.

Both of the girls nodded. Isabelle said she would show him. Eliza raised her eyes but said nothing. She stood up as Isabelle got up from her chair and moved to Simon's bedside. She leaned over him, pulling up the hem of his t-shirt. There was a thin harsh red line on Simon's stomach, quickly healing. "Does it hurt?" Izzy asked him.

Simon shook his head, saying no quietly. "Well, my eyes hurt." Jace's voice carried musically through the room. He had come in slyly, even managing to shut the door without anyone noticing his presence. Isabelle quickly yanked Simon's shirt back in place. "Isabelle, I think molesting the injured vampire violates one of the Accords." He mused with a wry smile.

Isabelle cut her eyes at him, telling him that she was only showing Simon where he was stabbed by the Forsaken. "Any update on the chaos downstairs?" She asked, sitting back in her chair.

He shook his head, his smile fading quickly. "Malachi decided it would be better if the situation was explained in person. And since the Clave is in session, Maryse and Patrick went to the Gard." Jace told them. Simon asked what they had to go explain. Jace turned to Simon. "You." He said. "They had to explain why we broke the Law by bringing a vampire into Alicante."

Simon gasped in pain, doubling over on himself in the bed. "Simon, are you okay?" Isabelle asked. Simon shooed her, asking her to get away. He looked at Jace and Eliza, telling them to get Isabelle out of the room.

Neither of them had to say anything. Isabelle stood up quickly and stormed from the room, her dark hair flying behind her. She slammed the door shut on her way out.

Jace gave Eliza a tired look. She returned the look. She hadn't slept since they arrived in the city, too worried about Simon. "You should be healing." Jace told Simon. "What's wrong with you?"

He started towards Simon but he flung his hand up to keep him away. "I have to replace the blood I lost. I'm hungry. Or thirsty. Whatever you want to call it." Jace nodded in understanding. His amber eyes were bright with interest, concern no longer on his face. "You know what, Wayland? Screw you." Simon growled through his teeth.

"Wayland, huh? Haven't heard that one in a while." Jace laughed. He started unzipping his jacket.

"Hell no. I am _not_ drinking your blood again." Simon told him sternly. "I'd rather die of hunger." Eliza leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jace rolled his eyes. From the inside of his jacket, he pulled a flask. She could see that it was half filled with a dark liquid. "It's juice from the meat in the kitchen. All we've got on tap at the moment."

He handed Simon the flask. She watched with keen interest as Jace unscrewed the flask for Simon, whose hands were shaking so badly with hunger. Simon brought the flask to his lips and turned it up. He grimaced as he took a few sips. "Dead blood." Simon groaned. Jace said all blood was dead. "No. The animal it came from is dead. The longer the animal is dead, the worse the blood tastes. Fresh blood is the best blood."

Jace raised his eyebrows. "Have you ever had fresh blood? Besides mine, of course. Which I know was delicious." Simon said Jace had something wrong in his brain.

Eliza pushed off the wall. She shrugged off her jacket, tossing it on the armchair. She took off the knife brace around her right wrist and pulled out one of the knives. "Here." She sliced through the delicate skin of her wrist, offering it to Simon.

"I can't." He whispered.

She nodded. The blood was running slowly down her wrist. Her nose wrinkled at the smell. "Yes, you can. I'm offering."

Simon gently took her wrist and brought it to his lips. She winced as she felt his teeth sink in. He was much easier with her than Raphael had been. Then again, Raphael had been trying to kill her.

Jace watched, his amber eyes hooded. His arms were crossed over his chest, chin pointed down. Simon choked, pushing her away. She stumbled back, catching herself on the chair before she could fall down. Simon coughed, blood going everywhere.

She looked at him, a worried expression on her face. "What's wrong?" Jace asked.

Simon had blood on his chin and his hands. "Disgusting." He groaned. His gaze met Eliza's. "Why does your blood taste like that?" He asked her. Jace asked what he meant. "Sour. It's sour. Like dead blood."

Eliza swallowed. "Sorry. Just trying to help." She muttered. He tried to apologize but she told him not to worry about it. She took out her stele and drew an _iratze_ to heal the cut. She waited a few minutes, sitting in the armchair. Once it healed, she put her brace back on, hiding the slight white scar. She wiped the knife on her pants and put it back in the brace.

Simon adjusted himself in the bed. "Idris, huh?" He questioned. "That's neat."

Jace corrected him, saying they were in Alicante. He moved to the window, pulling back the curtains to let the sunlight in. "The Penhallows thought that sun would bother you. They didn't relieve believe us when we said you were immune to the sun." He laughed.

Simon got up from the bed and joined Jace at the window. Jace looked back at Eliza and she shook her head. She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers. Offering Simon blood hadn't been her smartest decision, she had just wanted to help and she knew Jace wasn't going to offer any up.

For just a little while, she had forgotten about the fact that Lucifer's blood was in her. She had forgotten that her blood was no good. The only solace that brought her was that she would never be drained by a vampire. They wouldn't be able to finish her of without choking.

"The demon towers. They make sure that no demons can get into the city." She heard Jace tell Simon.

A burst of cold air came through the window. Eliza relished how clean the air was. There was no pollution in it, no smoke or dirt. Nothing. She breathed in, closing her eyes.

"You guys better tell me that me being here is all accidental. You'd better tell me that this wasn't part of the plan to keep Clary from coming here."

She expected a quick and witty retort from Jace, but he said nothing. He just stared out the window. "Are you trying to accuse us of creating those Forsaken and having them attack us?" Eliza asked darkly. "We all almost _died_ , Simon. Madeleine, who was the only one who knew how to wake up our mother, is dead."

"No, fangs, bringing you to Alicante was not part of the plan." Jace finally spoke. "If we would have left you behind, you would have died." Simon said that Jace and Eliza could have stayed behind with him. "Then we would all be dead. We don't know how many there were, we were too outnumbered. Liz and I are the best Shadowhunters of our age and even we couldn't fight off that many Forsaken." Simon said that he knew it hurt Jace to admit that he wasn't indestructible. "Asshole." Jace hissed. "I've saved your life twice and I've broken the Law for you. Show some damn gratitude."

"Gratitude? Are you serious?" Simon laughed. "I wouldn't be here and you wouldn't have to worry about breaking the Law if you hadn't made me come to the Institute and sneak behind Clary's back in the first place."

Eliza rose from the chair. She wedged herself between them, looking out the window. The demon towers were magnificent. High spires made of reflective silver. She had never seen them so close before, only from the far-off distance of the cottage. "Enough." She said wearily. "It doesn't matter who did what anymore. We're here now and Clary isn't. That's what matters. Besides, Simon, you said you'd do anything to protect Clary." She reminded him. "Being here, that's anything. Whether you like it or not." She turned, leaving the window.

There was a knock on the door. She walked over and opened it. Isabelle was standing on the other side. Izzy stepped into the room, sparing only a slight glance at Simon. She had changed into a silver skirt made of several tiers of material and a corseted top made of ivory material. Her runes were proudly showcased wherever the skin was bare. Her arms, shoulders, back, anywhere.

"Alec's going to the Gard." She told them. "He needs the two of you to come downstairs and talk to everyone about Simon."

Eliza motioned for her jacket. Jace picked it up as he walked by and tossed it to her. "Stay here." Jace told Simon.

"I think if you're going to be talking about me, I should be there." Simon countered.

Jace suppressed a groan and looked at Eliza, asking what she thought. "It wouldn't hurt." She said softly.

Jace put on a tight smile, directing it towards Simon. "Let's go, fangs. Looks like you're meeting the whole family today."

* * *

The Penhallows had a very beautiful house. They had made it a home. Which, granted, she thought most houses felt like home because hers never had. Mrs. Penhallow had decorated the house with things she had brought back with her from the Beijing Institute. Shoji screens, Chinese flower vases, and silkscreen prints showcasing Shadowhunter history.

"They have money." Isabelle told Simon. "A lot of it."

The four of them took the stairs down. The stairs ended at the large entertaining room. She could see the canal through the large glass window. Somewhere, music was playing softly. The sad notes of the piano reminded her of Jace.

In front of the fireplace were several couches. Alec was by the fireplace, playing with his gloves. One of the couches was occupied by two Shadowhunters their age. She couldn't see the boy's face, but she didn't like the uneasy feeling she had just looking at the back of his head. He was turned to the window.

Aline Penhallow had the worst kind of pretty, Eliza hated to admit. Lustrous dark hair and a troublesome expression. She had a small and narrow chin. She reminded Eliza of one of the Fair Folk she had seen in the Seelie Court.

The boy next to her turned. Sharp cheekbones, elegantly sharp features and impossibly dark eyes. Her breath caught in her throat. It couldn't be…

"This is him? The vampire?" Aline asked. Eliza watched her eyes scan over Simon. A mischievous smile planted itself on Aline's lips. "He's pretty cute. You know, for a vampire."

The boy stood up. "Please forgive my cousin. She is about as pleasant as a Moloch demon, though she wears the guise of an angel." He held his hand out for Simon to shake. "Sebastian Verlac. Cousin to Aline and the Penhallows."

"Sebastian, you can't shake hands with a Downworlder." Aline told him. "Especially vampires. They don't have souls. That's why they don't have reflections and can't stand in the sun." Aline continued.

The warm smile that the boy wore vanished at her words. "Aline, that isn't nice." Simon pushed past Eliza and moved in front of the window. The sunlight streamed in, washing him in it. Aline gasped softly. "When the Lightwoods told us, I didn't-." His eyes sparked.

"What?" Jace was the one who spoke. "You didn't think they were actually telling the truth?" His words were sharp, just like one of her knives. "Simon's unique. We wouldn't lie about him."

Isabelle quipped that she and Simon had once kissed. Eliza's eyes slid over to her, an incredulous look on her face. Why was that relevant? Apparently, it was to Aline. "Wow, they really let you do whatever in New York." She tried to mask the jealousy in her voice with disgust, but it was thinly done. "Izzy, the last time we saw each other you never would have gone near a Downworlder like that."

Eliza thought about bringing Meliorn up, but quickly decided against that. She figured that was a sore subject for Izzy. "She was eight the last time we were all together." Alec told Aline. "People change."

"Yes, they do." Sebastian said. When she looked at him, he was looking directly at her. She looked away, turning to Alec.

Alec made an annoyed face. "Mom had to leave quickly. Someone needs to take her records and notes up to the Gard. But, I'm the only one who's eighteen so I'm the only person who can actually go in while the Clave is in session." He explained.

Isabelle sat down on one of the couches. "For the fifth time, we know." She sighed.

Alec ignored her, turning his attention to Jace. He had a confident look to his face, one she didn't see Alec wear very often. "Jace, you brought the vampire here, which means you're responsible for him. That means not letting him go outside."

Jace's mouth twitched. "Eliza helped, need I remind you?" Alec said no, he didn't have to be reminded. "Is that all you needed us for?" He asked. "To tell us not to let Simon outside, something we wouldn't have done anyways."

Jace took a spot on the couch next to Aline. "I knew Eliza wouldn't, she actually uses her brain. You, however, a different story." Alec said.

Eliza smirked at Jace. "Alec likes me better." She taunted him.

Jace cut his eyes at her before giving Alec his attention again. "You should go." He said dully. "I can only imagine the kind of nonsense we'll get into with you gone, considering I don't use my brain."

Alec didn't seem to sense the dry sarcasm in Jace's voice. His blue eyes glinted. "I'll be back in thirty minutes." He turned to leave the room, headed through a high archway. He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Try not to kill him, Liz." He whispered, a small smile on his face.

She managed to smile back. He passed by her and a few minutes later, she heard the door click. "Jace, you know not to bait him. He's the oldest and that means he's in charge." Isabelle told Jace.

 _Sebastian_ was staring at her, his dark eyes perplexing. She swallowed, looking away quickly. Aline was sitting annoyingly close to Jace, her shoulders brushing against his. There was a whole empty seat on the couch, plenty of room for her to not be that close.

"I think that Alec was a cat lady in a past life." Jace spoke. "At least ninety cats, probably. Not to mention he was probably always yelling at poor neighborhood kids to stay off his lawn." Aline giggled at his joke. "Why should it matter that he's the only one who can get into the Gard?" Jace's hand had moved. It laid on top of Aline's hand, resting on her thigh.

Eliza narrowed her eyes, looking out the window. Simon asked what the Gard was. Eliza's eyes slid back over to Simon. Jace asked why they were still standing. She ignored him. She sat down on the couch next to Isabelle. Simon sat down in the armchair.

"The Gard is where the Clave meets." Sebastian told Simon. "There, they make the Law and it's where the Consul and Inquisitor reside. They only let adult Shadowhunters in when the Clave is in session." He explained to Simon.

"Are they in session because of me?" Simon asked.

Eliza said no, an amused smile on her face. "The Clave is meeting because of," she was overly aware of Sebastian's eyes on her, "Valentine and his possession of the Mortal Instruments. They're trying to figure out what he'll do next."

Just the mention of his name made the air stale. "Won't he go after the Mirror?" Simon asked. "It's the third Mortal Instrument."

Isabelle confirmed that it was the last of the Mortal Instruments. "But, no one knows where it is or even what it is." She said. Simon said it was a mirror, they all knew what a mirror was.

Sebastian said not exactly. "We aren't exactly sure of anything concerning the Mirror. It's mentioned several times throughout our histories but not of its whereabouts, a description of any kind, or even what it does."

Eliza shifted in her seat. She wasn't exactly thrilled about the detour of the conversation. She knew she'd have to talk about her father eventually, she just didn't expect it to be in the entertaining room of the Penhallow's home. "My father got lucky with the Cup and the Sword. He doesn't have that chance with the Mirror because no one alive knows where it is." She stared back at Sebastian. The Silent Brothers could have possibly located it but he murdered them."

Simon coughed. "Wait. He killed all of the Silent Brothers? I thought he just got the ones in New York?"

Isabelle said no. "It's kind of like how we got into the Seelie Court, Simon. There's an entrance there, but it doesn't necessarily mean that the Bone City is in New York. There are a lot of-." Aline shushed her, cutting her off.

Eliza's nostrils flared. Aline, Sebastian, and Jace all had the same expressions on. They'd been telling Simon, a Downworlder, Shadowhunter secrets. She honestly didn't see the big deal. It was _Simon_.

Aline stared Simon down, asking him what it was like to be a vampire. Isabelle let out a haughty breath. "You can't just ask someone that, Aline!" Her dark eyes were wide.

Aline rolled her eyes. "You haven't been a vampire that long, right? That means you remember things from when you were human." She ignored Isabelle, keeping her dark gaze fixed on Simon. "What does blood taste like? Does it taste like juice or some other drink to you or does it still just taste like blood?" Questions shot from her like rapid fire bullets from a gun.

"Chicken." Simon said dully. "It tastes like chicken."

Her eyes widened. "Does it really?"

Eliza couldn't help but laugh. Aline's eyes narrowed at her. "Aline, he is making fun of you." Sebastian informed his cousin. "I'm sorry, Simon. I've realized that us Shadowhunters who grew up outside of Idris are more familiar with Downworlders."

Eliza looked at Sebastian. What did he know about growing up outside of Idris? Isabelle asked that very question. "Sebastian, I thought you and your parents lived here?"

His expression turned very dark. She wondered what he was going to say. "I was brought up by my aunt at the Paris Institute after my parents were killed by a demon near Calais."

Isabelle's face softened in sympathy. "Paris? Oh, that means you speak French." She let out a heavy sigh. "Our old tutor Hodge didn't think we needed to know any other languages besides Ancient Greek and Latin. I wish I could have learned something else."

Sebastian nodded humbly, an earnest smile on his face. "I speak Russian and Italian as well. And just a little bit of Romanian. Perhaps I could teach you some French while you are here?"

Jace didn't give Isabelle the chance to answer. "Not a lot of people speak Romanian." He noted. Sebastian asked if Jace spoke it. "No. Only a few very limited phrases." Jace's smile, however, suggested otherwise.

Sebastian looked at Eliza. "Do you speak any other languages?" He asked her politely.

"A few." She said curtly. He asked which ones. "Russian, Chinese, and French, as well as Ancient Greek, Latin, Arabic, Hebrew, and Hindi. I know a little Spanish and some Romanian as well."

He smiled back at her. "Conversations with you must be very entertaining."

"Only a little." She smiled back uneasily.

Jace looked between the two of them, his mouth drawn tightly together. "Yes, Liz is very entertaining." He interjected the conversation. He had that tone of voice, the annoyed one. But his hand was still on Aline Penhallow's thigh, their fingers curled together.

Sebastian no longer wore a smile. His face was pensive, calm and collected. Eliza knew something lingered underneath that face. Something bad. Wrong. "It's good to be back, isn't it?" He asked Jace.

Jace's hand stilled. "I don't know what you mean."

"We make homes in places that aren't Idris, but there is no place else like our home country. Is there?"

Jace's jaw locked. "I don't understand why you're asking me this question." He said through gritted teeth.

Sebastian gave a non-committal shrug in response. "I thought that you lived here in Idris as a child. How long has it been since you've been here?" The room was silent, save for the melancholy music playing. "Am I wrong?"

Eliza fiddled with one of her knives. "You're right." Isabelle's voice cut through the silence. "Jace likes to play a game where he pretends no one is talking about him even though he knows they are."

Jace was glaring at Sebastian, his amber eyes dark. "Everyone is talking about you these days, Jace." Sebastian noted, his voice even. "Well, your family, to be more specific I suppose. The Mortal Instruments, your father and your sisters." Sebastian spared another look to Eliza.

Aline looked at Eliza as well. "Wasn't Clarissa supposed to accompany you? I was so looking forward to meeting her." She simpered.

"I'm sure." Eliza drawled, her voice much more hostile than she had meant for it to be. Aline's face shifted and she leaned back on the couch. Jace had snatched his hand away, curling it into a fist on his own thigh. "Our mother is ill right now, in the hospital. She and Clary are very close, so Clary decided it was best to stay in New York with her." The lie rolled so easily off her tongue.

"I thought she actually wanted to come." Isabelle said quietly.

Simon leaned forward. "Well, she did, but-."

Jace got to his feet swiftly. "Simon, I need to talk to you. Privately." Jace glanced down at the double doors across the room. His gaze went to Eliza. "Liz, come on."

She moved to get up, but then Sebastian spoke. "Actually, Jace, I was wondering if I could borrow your sister for just a short while." He had a jovial expression on his face. She looked between them. "I was going to walk around the city. Would you care to join me?" When Sebastian looked at Eliza, he didn't have the same light smile. It was tighter, his eyes glinting with something darker than joy.

She couldn't say no. She knew the possibilities of what would happen if she refused him. Besides, he couldn't hurt her. He would have to bring her back. She didn't mind the added bonus of pissing Jace off. If he wanted to flirt with Aline Penhallow, she would let him. He didn't know who Sebastian really was. He could think whatever of the time they spent together.

"Yes. A walk would be nice." She said, the words barely leaving her mouth. A rude noise escaped Jace's throat. He grabbed Simon, pulling him from the room.

"Shall we?" Sebastian gestured towards the hallway that led to the front door.

* * *

They had walked through the city in silence. She found an odd comfort in it because she knew what would come once he started speaking. She realized where they were going once they had left the city.

"Why are you here?" She asked quietly as they walked. The cobblestone roads faded into green grass.

"I think you know." His voice was no longer pleasant. It became the hard and biting tone she remembered so well.

"Are you going to hurt him?"

He stopped, looking at her as if she had just asked the most stupid question in the world. "No. Not unless I have to." She asked if he was going to hurt her, or anyone for that matter. "I'm not allowed to hurt you. Not yet, anyways. And as for the others, your friends, I will if you don't comply."

She thought of Alec and Izzy and little Max. Simon, poor Simon. He was so capable of defending himself but he just didn't know how. Alec and Izzy were strong, they were excellent fighters but against the boy standing beside her, she wasn't sure they would fare very well.

* * *

Rolling hills of bright green grass surrounded them. Just below them, nestled away between two large hills and far enough from the busyness of the city was a small cottage. Vines grew up the side of the house, a large willow tree hanging over it.

She had spent seventeen years locked away in that cottage, Alicante only a few miles away. She had spent almost her entire life in that cottage. Training in the basement for hours every day, her nose buried in complex books, sharing a small room with her twin brother. For fifteen years, that cottage had been her entire world.

She looked over at the boy next to her, with his black dyed hair and his cruel face. In that moment, he was no longer Sebastian. He was who he had always been.

"Welcome home, little sister." Jonathan.


	25. Chapter 25

Jonathan scared her. Not the way their father did, though. Valentine was predictable. She knew exactly what to expect from him. Jonathan…Jonathan wanted to please their father, but he wanted other things too. He liked to hurt things, to hurt people. He wasn't as predictable as their father. He was a little unhinged. Something in him wasn't quite right.

It had taken her a long time to realize what it was. Only after moving away and finding out what they were did she realize. It was the demon blood. Lucifer's blood running through his veins. It had manifested, taking him over and creating a monster.

"Are we here for the same reason?" He asked her.

They were still standing atop the hill, the cottage below them. "No. I don't believe so." She said truthfully. It felt good to tell the truth, even if it was to Jonathan.

He nodded, clearly pleased with her answer. "Good. Father is already so displeased with you. I couldn't imagine he would be happy to learn you were searching for the Mirror as well."

She made sure her face didn't change. It was no surprise that he was after the Mirror. The surprise was that he had sent Jonathan to look for it. "I'm testifying to the Clave. Against him." She told him.

"Of course, you are." He sighed disappointedly. "I often wonder where he went wrong with you. He treated us the same. And yet, I am loyal and you are not."

Jonathan truly believed that he was their father's prodigal son. He was unaware of how much Valentine valued Jace. "He didn't. He never treated us the same. He favored you." Jonathan said it was because he always did what he was told. "I don't see either of us complaining about our current status." She pointed out. "Father still favors you and I got the freedom I wanted."

It wasn't freedom. It was close, but it wasn't freedom. Valentine still loomed over her, threatening the ones she loved. And then there was Jonathan. Standing next to her. He would hurt someone, just to do it. But if he knew that it would hurt her, he would relish it. Make it a hundred times worse.

"You're going to keep your mouth shut." A demand, not a question.

She looked over at him. They looked similar, the two of them. The Morgenstern twins, the true twins. The same regal cheekbones and slender bodies. The same eye shape and the same nose. The same graceful hands they had inherited from their mother and long lashes. "Yes." She stated. "But Jonathan?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "If you do _anything_ that even makes me think you'll hurt one of my friends, I'll kill you." The words came out much more confident than she had hoped.

She hated the smile he wore. "You can try." He replied easily. "If you don't succeed, I'll let you live." Jonathan didn't believe in mercy. "And then, I'll kill your Lightwood friends and that incessant vampire you've brought into our home country. I'll kill that warlock scum you've allied yourself with and I will kill your vampire boyfriend."

She sucked in a breath. When he looked back at her, her eyes were the same dark black as his.

* * *

Their trek back to the Penhallow was quiet. Jonathan didn't attempt any conversation and she was glad for it.

By the time they returned to the house, food was spread out in the living room. Most of it had been picked on, she noticed. They hadn't been gone that long, she didn't think.

Conversation ceased when they entered the room. Jace barely looked up from Aline, the two of them eating cake from the same plate.

"Good, you guys are back!" Isabelle grinned. She waved her hand around the food. "We've got cake and cheese and apples and a bunch of stuff Aline swiped from the kitchen for us." There was a bottle of wine in the middle of the food.

Max was huddled on one of the couches, a piece of cake in his lap and his nose in a book. "Jace, your sister has a wonderful sense of direction." Sebastian settled himself on the couch next to Isabelle. "She's like a walking compass." Isabelle made him a plate of food and handed it to him. He smiled graciously. She asked where they ventured off to. "Eliza was kind enough to show me the cottage she grew up in."

Jace's head snapped up from Aline. "Did she now?" He asked thickly. Oh, he was very cross with her.

Sebastian popped an apple slice in his mouth. "Yes. It was a lovely little place."

Jace glowered at her briefly before turning back to Aline. Eliza put her hand on Simon's wrist as Sebastian turned his attention to Isabelle. She led Simon to one of the other couches and they sat down.

"How are you?" She asked quietly. He shrugged. "I'm sorry you ended up here. If I could send you back to New York, I would in a heartbeat."

"Don't worry about it." He told her. "Besides, how many vampires can say they've been to Alicante?"

Isabelle stood up from the couch she was occupying. "We're out of wine." She put the empty bottle on the table and, with a wink in Sebastian's direction, flounced off to the kitchen.

Sebastian turned, settling his attention on Eliza and Simon. "Simon, you've been quiet. Are you all right?" He smiled. He tended to smile a lot in this guise.

Simon leaned back on the couch, making himself comfortable. "I don't think I would bring much to any conversation. They're all about your politics or people I don't know."

Sebastian's smile faded. "We tend to be closed off. It's only because we are shut off from the other world." Simon said he felt as if they closed themselves off from the world, considering they seemed to despise mundanes.

Sebastian's eyebrows lifted. "That is strong language. Anyways, I can't imagine that the world would want anything to do with us. We're the reminder to the mundane world that the monsters who hide under their beds are in fact, very real." Sebastian glanced at Jace, who was staring at them with mild interest. "Do you agree with me?" Sebastian asked him.

Jace gave a tight-lipped smile and responded in Romanian, " _De ce crezi ca va ascultam conversatia?"_ She scrambled the words out in her head. She hadn't used Romanian in so long. _Why do you think I was listening to your conversation?_ Naturally he had a smart-mouthed response.

Sebastian seemed surprised by his answer. He replied back in the same language, " _M-ai urmarit de cand ai ajuns aici. Nu-mi dau seama daca nu ma placi ori daca e sti atat de banuitor cu toata lumea."_ Did they have to argue in Romanian? Her brain was hurting. _You've been following me since you got here. I do not know if I do not like you or if you are so stupid with everyone._ Sebastian stood up. "The Romanian practice was enjoyable, thank you. I'm going to go see what's taking Isabelle so long with the wine." He walked out of the room, headed towards the kitchen.

Eliza glared at Jace. "Why do you insist on baiting everyone today?" She hissed.

His eyes widened and then narrowed in contempt. " _De ce insistă să flirtezi cu toată lumea?_ " She flinched. _Why do you insist on flirting with everyone?_ Sometimes, he could be just as cruel as Jonathan.

Alec came into the room, the same frown as before plastered on his face. "Welcome back." Jace said dryly.

"You know, Alec," Eliza started, "it wouldn't kill you to smile every once in a while." She suggested to him.

He looked grim. "You told me that amusement wasn't a good look on me." She vaguely remembered the strung out look on his face after the Hotel Dumont incident. She decided not to carry the conversation further. "I came back for you." Alec gestured to Simon. He took an apple from the table and took a bite. "They want him at the Gard."

Jace got up from the couch, shaking Aline's hand from his. "Why? Did you at least ask before you came running back here?"

Alec glared at him. "Yes, I asked. I'm not stupid, Jace."

Isabelle snickered in the doorway. Sebastian was next to her, a new bottle of wine in his hand. "Brother, sometimes you can be just a little bit stupid." Isabelle told him. He turned his murderous look to his sister.

"The Clave has decided to send Simon back to New York through a Portal." Alec told them. Eliza put her hand on his knee, giving Simon a warm smile. Isabelle protested, saying Simon had just woken up. "Isabelle, hush." Alec told his sister. "That's what the Clave has decided, seeing that Simon coming to Alicante was a complete accident."

"No, it's fine. I want to go." Simon finally spoke. "I might get back before my mom notices I've been gone." Aline asked if he really had a mother. "I really want to go back." He told Eliza.

She stood up and pulled him to his feet. "I need a favor, if you're going to be ditching me." She said softly, so no one would hear. He said he'd do anything. She pulled him into a hug, her mouth close to his ear. "Tell Magnus I'm in danger." She murmured. He stiffened. "And give Clary my best." She said loud enough for others to hear. "Oh, and if you see Magnus, make sure he's feeding the cat. He forgets."

She pulled away from the hug. Simon nodded, saying he'd speak to Clary and ask about the cat.

"Alec, you're going with him?" Jace asked cautiously. "You're going to make sure everything works out?" The two _parabatai_ shared an intense look. Simon asked what was wrong. Jace said nothing quickly, a dull smile on his face. "You're going home, fangs. Perk up."

* * *

She was leaving the bathroom when Jace caught her in the hallway. He pushed her into the bathroom and locked the door.

"Jace, what the hell are you doing?" She asked. "I feel as if you could have waited until I was fully out of the bathroom."

He didn't look to be in the joking mood. "Where did the two of you go? You and Sebastian, earlier."

By the Angel, that's what was wrong with him? She rolled her eyes. "He told you. We walked around the city and then he asked about where I had grown up and it wasn't a far walk, so I just decided to show him." He asked if that was all they did. He had some nerve, inquiring about her activities after openly flirting with Aline the entire day. "I don't have to explain anything to you or answer your questions, Jace."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Do you like him?"

She laughed bitterly. He was something else, truly. "Do you like Aline? You seem to. I don't blame you."

He leaned against the wall. She couldn't read the expression on his face. "Aline is from a good family." He finally said. "She's pretty." That seemed more of an afterthought than a main point. Which was unusual for Jace. He really liked pretty girls.

"I know." She said. The Penhallows were a very good family. And they were well to do. Jia Penhallow had run the Beijing Institute. Between she and the Lightwoods, Jace would be well taken care of in the career department.

"I could be happy, with her." He didn't seem completely sure. Like he was trying to convince himself along with her.

She nodded. "You could." It would be better for him, to settle down with a good Shadowhunter girl like Aline Penhallow. She would be much better for him. Eliza had ruined him.

"You have Declan." He noted, reminding her. Declan, sweet and caring Declan. She missed him.

"I do." She said quietly. Declan cared for her a great deal and she cared about him too. But there was an inherit danger in being with him. He would be a target for her father and brother. If she did something wrong, if she messed up badly enough, they would kill him. And then there was the fact that he was a vampire. She would get old, he wouldn't. If she decided she wanted kids, and that was a big 'if', they wouldn't be from him.

Yet, every time she imagined herself with kids, they always had the same tawny eyes and golden curls as the boy in front of her.

"Maybe if things were different…" Jace murmured.

 _Maybe if I hadn't lied to you. Maybe if you knew you weren't my brother. Maybe, maybe, maybe._ "Yes." She agreed. "Maybe."

* * *

She rejoined the group in the living room and poured herself a full glass of wine. She sat down on the couch beside Max, leaning over to look at his book.

"What're you reading?" She whispered, Isabelle's high laugh drowning over her voice.

Max looked up, his glasses falling down his nose slightly. He pushed them back up. "A manga. Do you want to see?" He seemed glad someone was finally paying attention to him. She nodded encouragingly and he scooted closer to her. He held the book where she could see it. He pointed out the characters, explaining each of them to her. He even explained to her that manga books were read differently than other books.

"Eliza, I have a question." Aline's voice startled her. She and Max looked up from the manga volume. "Jace tells me you're dating a vampire. Is that true?"

"Yes." She answered. "Declan's the head of the London clan, actually."

Aline's eyes sparkled. "How interesting. How did the two of you meet?"

Jace and Sebastian both were staring at her. Sebastian seemed more than content in hearing her answer. Jace, however, looked angry. "At a diner. I was getting take-out for my roommate and I for dinner. Declan introduced himself and offered to pay for our food. And then he asked me on a date." Aline asked what she meant by roommate. Why didn't she live in the Institute with the others? "I live with the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Magnus Bane. It's more comfortable."

"It isn't as safe." Sebastian spoke up. She took a long sip of her wine, asking what he meant by that. "I mean no offense, Eliza, but it's well known that your father despises Downworlders. Aren't you afraid that he'll come after the two closest to you?"

She licked her bottom lip, staring back at him. "He can try." She told him. He asked what she meant. Another drink. "I've stabbed him once. I'll do it again. And this time, I won't stick my knife in his leg."

He seemed amused with her answer. "What?" Aline breathed. " _You stabbed Valentine_?"

She didn't get a chance to respond before Jace was speaking. "Liz is the best Shadowhunter of our age." He told Aline. "Our old tutor said she may even be better than me." Izzy said that Eliza was better than him. Jace shot her a glare before turning back to Aline. "My sister knows how to kick ass."

Eliza finished her glass of wine and decided not to pour another. She put the glass on the table. "Well, we'll just have to test that theory, won't we?" Aline smiled at her.

Jace laughed quietly. "Aline, I wasn't kidding."

"Neither am I." She said sharply. She looked back at Eliza. "You've fought the Lightwoods and your brother. You should fight against Sebastian and I. Training methods here in Idris are a little…different."

Jace was watching her carefully. _Don't_ , his face said, _you'll hurt her_. Sebastian was watching her too, but his look wasn't as concerned for Aline. He looked excited.

They hadn't fought against each other in months. He had been better than her growing up.

"I'd love to." Eliza's eyes darkened.

Aline clapped her hands together happily. "Great! Tomorrow?" Eliza said that was more than fine.

"Liz. Outside." Jace was on his feet. "Please."

She got to her feet, ruffling Max's hair. "Be right back, kiddo." He gave her a lopsided smile. She followed Jace from the living room out to the front stoop of the Penhallow's house.

"You can't fight against them." He told her. "You'll kill them."

"You mean, I'll kill Aline." She corrected. "Worried for your girlfriend?" His eyes flashed. "I won't hurt her. I'll knock her on her ass a few times, but I won't cause her any damage an _iratze_ can't fix."

Jace moved away from her. He moved off the stoop, sitting on top of the stone wall around the front garden of the house. "Something is wrong with you." Jace muttered. She said that he had no idea. "No, I mean it. You've changed. You didn't use to be like this."

She looked away from him. She saw Alec walking down the cobblestone, the streetlights illuminating him in the darkness.

"Have you guys been waiting on me the whole time I've been gone?" Alec asked, hesitating on the first step.

"No." Jace said. "Liz went on a walk with Sebastian and then agreed to fight him and Aline." Jace told him.

Alec's shoulders seemed to unstiffen just a little. "You two are fighting again. Great." He groaned. He sat down next to Jace on the garden wall. "In case you guys were wondering, and I would like to think that you were, it went fine. Simon and the Inquisitor." He brought up.

"Did you actually see him go through the Portal?" Eliza inquired. Alec said no. "Then how do you know that it went fine?"

Alec paled. "I left him with Inquisitor Aldertree."

Jace didn't like that answer. And frankly, neither did she. "Why didn't you stay to make sure?" Jace asked sharply.

Alec's mouth twitched. "The Inquisitor said that he was going to escort Simon personally and make sure he got back." Alec told them.

Jace rolled his eyes at Alec. "Do you remember the last Inquisitor? She went above and beyond her position. If she hadn't been killed last week, we all know that the Clave would have fired her. They may have even considered cursing her, like they did Hodge. This Inquisitor could be just as bad, even worse maybe." Jace's voice was sharp-edged and acidic.

Alec glanced at her. She shrugged. "He has a point, Alec." She said softly.

Alec shook his head. "Inquisitor Aldertree seems really nice. Much nicer than Inquisitor Herondale was. He was really nice to Simon, too. You guys need to realize that we can't control everything. You've got to learn to trust the Clave." Jace pointed out that as of recently, the Clave was messing up quite a lot. "When you begin to think that you're above the Clave and the Law, you're putting yourself in the same position as Inquisitor Herondale. And Valentine."

She saw the way Jace recoiled from Alec. The pained look on his face. Alec could have stabbed him and he would have looked less betrayed.

"Jace, I didn't- I'm sorry." Alec scrambled for words.

The front door opened behind her. Isabelle was standing in the doorway, yellow light from inside the house surrounding her figure. She stood with her hands on her hips, her face pinched. "What the hell is going on?" Isabelle asked them. "Aline thinks she upset the two of you." She waved her hand at Jace and Eliza.

Jace got to his feet just as Alec looked back at him. "I hope you're right about the Clave." He grumbled. She watched him walk by her, shove past Isabelle, and go back into the house. Isabelle spared a look at Eliza and Alec. Eliza shook her head slightly and Isabelle turned, going back into the house. She waited until she heard the door click.

"He's impossible." She finally spoke.

Alec looked up at her. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

She shrugged, saying it wasn't his fault. "He needed to hear it, whether he wanted to or not." He looked at her incredulously, blue eyes bright with confusion. "Sometimes, he reminds me of him." She said quietly.

"Surely not." He responded just as quietly. "I heard him speak with the old Inquisitor and with my mother…"

"I'm not saying Jace is the same as him, Alexander. I'm only saying that I've spent a great deal of time with both of them and I sometimes see similarities." She said. "They wear the same arrogance, the height at which they hold themselves, I don't want to see it but I do." She stood up and brushed off the back of her pants.

"Liz, we both see things." He told her. "I-I see the way that you look at him sometimes." They'd had the same conversation once, only flipped. She had said the same thing to him before.

She opened her mouth and then closed it quickly. "Alec, I don't know what you're talking about." She said the words she had said so many times before. "He's my brother."

She didn't give him the chance to answer before she went back into the house, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Her father, wherever he was, was laughing. She knew it. He had them all under one roof. His three engineered soldiers. Jace, Jonathan, and Eliza. He had spent precious time and energy building them into exactly what he wanted them to be. All of those years and only Jonathan had turned out to be what he desired.

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She grabbed her cardigan from the floor and picked up her shoes. Quietly, she stole through the house and crept out the front door. Once she was outside, she slipped on her cardigan and shoes, lacing up the boots. The night breeze was cool against her skin and she pulled her cardigan closer.

She walked around the house until she found the canal. She could hear the water lapping against the stone, reminding her of home. She caught herself in the thought, wondering when home had become New York.

 _The day you realized you were in love with Jace_ , she told herself.

"Trying to run away?" His voice carried through the air.

She didn't bother turning. "No one would miss me if I did." She said as he sat down next to her. His knee bumped against hers.

"Magnus and Declan." He told her. "Me." He said, his voice a whisper in the wind.

She looked over at him. He was wearing a loose-fitting flannel and dark pajama pants. Was he wearing…house shoes? She breathed out a laugh. "I only meant if I left Idris and went back to New York."

"I'd still miss you, Lizzie."

She looked away. She squinted trying to see the water in the canal. "You can't say things like that." She whispered. "It isn't right."

He made a strangled noise in his throat. "I don't care anymore." He stated. "I thought I did. I thought that I would care what other people thought, but I don't. I care about _you_ , Liz. Always you. Only you."

She smiled to herself. She hated him, the way he made her feel. The way he looked. His smile, bright as the sun. The way his golden curls formed a halo on his head. "You're my brother." She reminded him. A lie.

"I know." He replied. "I tried…I tried not to feel this way, not to feel for you. I thought it was going to work when you started seeing Declan and it did, for a little while." She asked what changed. "I saw your face, after I kissed Clary in the Seelie Court. I saw you, on Valentine's ship. That's what I saw when Agramon confronted us."

Quietly, she told him that she already knew that. He asked how. "Father told me. He said that- he told me that your greatest fear was your love for me."

"What Agramon showed me, I never want to see it again." He mumbled. "You weren't next to me. You were in front of me. And then, you fell forward. There was blood all over you, you were dying." His voice cracked, falling unevenly over the words. "I was so scared, Lizzie."

She looked back to him. "Losing you. That's my greatest fear." She told him. "I watched you die, Jace, and it was my fault."

He grabbed her hand. "It wasn't real. None of it was. We both know that now."

She shook her head. As long as Valentine and Jonathan were alive, it was real. She wasn't sure if Valentine would ever actually hurt Jace. But Jonathan…Jonathan might.

"What we feel, it isn't right." She said quietly. "We can't act on it."

The look on his face was hard to read. A mixture of betrayal and understanding. "I don't want to hide how I feel anymore, Liz."

She thought of Aline, with her pretty almond eyes and curved cheekbones. Her fingers wound together with Jace's, not so different from how Eliza's were at that moment in time. She quickly pulled her hand away, averting her gaze to the canal. "I can't have this conversation with you. Not when I watched you flirt with Aline Penhallow all day." She said coolly.

He looked back at her in amazement. "I've watched you with your boyfriend for two weeks." He replied icily.

She narrowed her eyes. Declan. He deserved better. Better than a girl who was in love with a boy who everyone thought was her brother. "Declan is wonderful." She told him. "He cares about me and-."

"And he isn't your brother. That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?" She swallowed, saying yes. "Is that what you want? For me to be just your brother?" His voice hurt just as much as demon blood did when it burned the skin.

The thing was, he _wasn't_ her brother. Her real brother was inside the house, asleep, waiting for her to slip up.

"I don't know." She admitted. Her shoulders slumped. She ran her hands through her hair. "I don't know what I want, Jace. I know that I-that I-I know I feel things for you that I shouldn't, things I _can't_ feel." She looked back at him. Her green eyes were melancholy. "I'm sorry. I know that isn't what you want to hear, but this isn't right, Jace."

She stood up, pulling her cardigan together. "Liz." He sighed. She walked past him and he reached out, grabbing her hand. His fingers were cool against her skin. "Please."

"You want the truth?" She asked him. Almost unsure, he said yes. "The truth is that I love you. I don't want to and I've tried not to. Because it isn't right and there isn't anything I can do to change it." That was the truth. She couldn't change it. There was only one way the real truth about Jace was going to come out. Someone had to tell him. And only three people knew the truth: herself, Jonathan, and their father. Four, if she counted her mother, but she wasn't conscious and who knew when she would be.

He let her hand fall.

* * *

Isabelle shouting Sebastian's name woke her up. Faint morning light streamed in from the window. She jumped out of the bed and rushed from the room. She ran down the long hallway and down the stairs. Sebastian was blocking the stairs, someone in front of him.

Eliza jerked to a stop on the stair above him. She could see the girl he was blocking. Her bright red hair was a mess of curls. She was wearing the standard black Shadowhunter gear and surprisingly didn't look ridiculous.

" _Clary?_ " Eliza gasped. Sebastian looked back at her and she watched her younger sister's eyes draw up to look at her. "What the hell are you doing here? _How_ are you here?"

This was a nightmare come to life. All three of Valentine Morgenstern's children in one place. His three children and his pet project.

Isabelle was standing a few feet away, a flustered look on her face. "I tried to stop her, but she ran right past me."

Eliza shoved past Sebastian to stand in front of Clary. "You aren't supposed to be here." She reminded her sister. Clary said she was well aware that she didn't want her there. "How did you get here?"

"Sneaking into Alicante isn't an easy thing to do." Sebastian finally spoke.

Eliza and Isabelle agreed with him. "I just came through a Portal." Clary said casually. Isabelle asked how that was possible, Valentine had destroyed all the Portals in New York. "I'm not telling you anything until you tell me where Jace is."

At the same time, Isabelle and Sebastian spoke. Isabelle said he wasn't there and Sebastian said he was only upstairs. "Shut up!" Isabelle told him shrilly.

He did well hiding the gleeful look in his eyes with a concern that seemed genuine. "He's Clary's brother. He'll want to see her, right?"

Isabelle seemed conflicted. Her mouth was drawn tightly in frustration.

Sebastian looked at Eliza. "Right?"

Eliza ground her teeth together. "Right." She relented unwillingly. She wasn't in the mood to argue with him. Not after her conversation with Jace the night before.

"Liz!" Isabelle threw her hands in the air dramatically. Eliza gave her a sympathetic look. There was no point in arguing over it, Clary was already there. "Fine, whatever." Isabelle's usually sweet face was pinched in anger. "You never think about your actions, do you?" She asked Clary. "You just do whatever you want, whenever you want, no matter who might get hurt." She snapped.

"Isabelle." Eliza said tightly. "I think that's enough."

She grabbed Clary by the elbow, her grip tight as iron. She motioned for Sebastian to step aside and he did. Eliza began hauling her sister up the stairs.

"I can't believe you." Eliza muttered. "You shouldn't be here."

She felt Clary give her a hateful look. "You and Jace certainly tried your best to keep me from coming." She said bitterly.

Eliza jerked her to a stop at the top of the stairs. Her eyes were dark and furious. "Did you ever stop to think for even just a second that we didn't want you here for a _reason_?" She hissed. "We weren't playing a game of the Big Kids Club, Clary. We kept you from coming to protect you." At the base of the stairs, she could hear Isabelle laying it on thick to Sebastian. _Good_ , she thought, _he deserves it_.

"Hi." A small voice said from behind them.

Eliza grimaced, turning around. Max was sitting in the bay window, a book in his hands. "Max, hi. I didn't see you there."

He adjusted his glasses as he stared back at them. "You're Jace's other sister." He pointed to Clary. "You taught me how to read _Naruto_!" He waved his book for her to see. "I got another one to read, do you want to see?" He sounded so excited. Eliza hated to burst his bubble.

"Max, we really can't talk right now." Eliza said. "Clary just got here and we need to see Jace. Is he still in his room?" She asked nicely.

He said no, his eyes saddening. "He's in the library. I asked if I could hang out with him but he said he had to do grown-up stuff. You guys always say that."

Eliza frowned. "We'll hang out later, kid. I'll sneak us some cake and you can show me your new book, okay?"

Max half-smiled at her as they walked by. She felt bad for him. He was nine, old enough to have a good idea of what was going on, but still too young to really be involved.

Eliza still had ahold of Clary as she led her down the hallway. She turned the doorknob and kicked the door open with her foot.

A strangled noise escaped her throat and her grip tightened on Clary's arm.

Jace was standing in the middle of the room. His arms were around Aline Penhallow, her hands in his hair. Their lips were locked together and bitterly, she wondered if either of them could even breathe.

Clary's cold fingers were wrapping around her own. "You're hurting me." Clary whispered. Eliza couldn't look away from the scene in front of her. Clary pried her hand off and stumbled back. The door slammed shut.

Aline jumped, stepping back from Jace. Eliza's eyes were black when Jace and Aline looked over at them. Eliza's eyes went down to Aline's blouse. The top few buttons were undone and a colorful lace trim was showing underneath. When she met Aline's gaze, she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Aline's fingers immediately went to work, quickly buttoning her blouse. Her face was constricted in plain annoyance at being interrupted. "Who's this?" She nudged her head towards Clary.

Eliza looked back at Jace. His face was colorless, the dark circles under his eyes prevalent. "Clary, my other sister."

Aline's face molded into a flustered smile. "Goodness. My apologies." She gushed. "I'm Aline." She started towards Clary, her hand offered out to shake. As she got closer, Eliza side-stepped wordlessly, refusing to look at her. She took a seat in the large maroon armchair. She trained her eyes on the large picture window across the room. The harsh sunlight streaming through burned her eyes.

She heard hushed whispers and then the door open and close again. She looked away from the window, her eyes searing. Aline had left the room.

"Hi, Jace." Clary said cautiously. She took a slow step towards him and he backed up.

"What in the Angel's name are you doing here?" Words coated in acid, his golden eyes were dark with anger. He shot a poisonous glare in Eliza's direction. "What the hell is she doing here?"

She got comfortable in the armchair, her chin propped up on her arm that rested on the arm of the chair. She returned a lazy, hateful look but said nothing.

"The two of you can't even act like you're happy to see me? Just a little?" Clary asked them.

Both of them looked at her. "No. Not at all." Jace told her rudely.

Clary frowned at him, shaking her head slightly. "I can't stand when you act like this." She told him.

"Oh, right, of course." Jace replied snippily. "I should clean my act up right this second if you hate it so much. I mean, it's only fair considering you do everything I ask of you."

Eliza burrowed a little further into the armchair, getting more and more comfortable. She'd let them duke it out until it became a little _too_ much. But in the moment, it was nice to see someone else argue with Jace. She got very tired of doing it herself.

"This is different!" Clary yelled. "You didn't have any right lying to me and keeping me from coming here!" Eliza supposed that may have been directed at her as well, but she left it alone. Better to let Jace take all the blame.

"I did!" Jace shouted at her. Eliza straightened up. She'd never heard him yell at Clary before. Not like that. "You dumb, stupid girl, I had every single right. I'm your brother and-."

Dumb _and_ stupid? She let her hand fall to rest on the end of the arm rest. She watched them carefully, her eyes flitting from Clary to Jace.

"What?" Clary questioned sharply. "Own me? It doesn't matter if you're my brother or not, you don't own me."

Behind Clary, the door burst open. Alec was standing in the doorway. His hair was moussed, and she didn't think purposefully. Alec wasn't one to dwell too much on his hair. His long blue jacket fell stiffly at his sides, complementing his eyes nicely. His boots were caked in mud. His eyes drifted from Clary, to Jace, to Eliza. "What the hell is going on here?" He demanded.

Jace's face molded from rage to calm in a matter of seconds. "Clary's leaving. That's what's going on." He replied smoothly.

"I'm not." Clary said defiantly.

Jace said yes, she was. Even if he had to drag her out. Alec interrupted whatever Clary was about to say. "Eliza." Her eyes snapped up to meet his gaze. "Do something."

"Alexander, whatever do you want me to do?" She simpered.

His eyes flashed. "Something. Anything to get them to quit arguing with each other." He waved his hand haphazardly towards Clary and Jace.

She leaned forward slightly in the chair. "Not my problem." She told him in a cool voice.

His lip trembled in what she could only assume was pure Alec anger. "What do you mean it isn't your- Never mind. Clary, get out. I need to talk to Jace and Eliza."

"I'm assuming it isn't Shadowhunter custom to greet guests, then." Clary grumbled.

Alec's face softened when he looked at her. _Pushover_ , Eliza thought. "Right. Sorry. It's nice to see you again." He told Clary politely. "But you aren't supposed to be here. Izzy said you managed to get here on your own and I think that's really impressive-."

"Don't encourage her." Jace ordered.

Alec's eye twitched. "Anyways, I really have to talk to Jace and Eliza. Just a few minutes, please." He begged her.

"I also need to talk to them. About our mother. Which I think is more important, probably." Clary told Alec.

"As it so happens, I don't really feel like talking to anyone." Jace announced to them. "Which seems really convenient for me and not convenient for anyone else." She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. Alec said that Jace would want to talk to Alec about what he had to say. "Doubtful." Jace told him. He turned his attention back to Clary. "I know you didn't come alone. So, who came with you?" He spoke slowly, trying not to sound completely furious with her.

"Luke." Clary said simply.

Jace paled.

"You've got to be kidding me." Eliza muttered. The three of them looked at her as she rose from the chair. She walked over to them, a despicably horrible expression on her face. "Clary, Luke is a werewolf. Downworlders are not allowed in Alicante without permission and I _know_ he doesn't have it." Quietly, Clary said that she knew. "You have no idea what the Clave does to unregistered Downworlders who enter the Glass City." Just as quiet as before, Clary said she didn't know. "Of course you don't." Eliza snapped at her. "You hardly know anything at all about the Clave and the Shadow World. You have a complete disregard for the Law and our customs. You only care about what you want and how to get it."

Clary seemed so small to her, like a child being scolded. That was what she was. A child, being reprimanded by her older sister. Eliza huffed a breath.

"If you and Luke don't go back to New York right now, I'm sure you'll find out exactly what the Clave does to unregistered Downworlders in Alicante." Jace told Clary.

"Guys." Alec's voice was pleading. "I know you've been wondering where I've been all morning." His words were rushed. He sounded panicked.

Jace didn't bother looking at him when he answered. "You're wearing a new coat. You were shopping. Is there a reason you're bothering everyone about it?"

She watched Alec's nostrils flare. Oh, he was in a right mood. "No, I wasn't shopping." As if shopping were the most absurd task he had ever heard of. "I w-."

The door burst open yet again. This time, it was Isabelle. She fluttered into the room in a flowy white dress, kicking the door shut softly. "I warned you." She sang out. "I so told you that they'd both freak about you being here." She told Clary.

"Now isn't the time, Isabelle." Alec told his sister.

"Oh, no. I think an 'I told you so' is perfect. Keep going." Jace told Izzy.

Clary's mouth gaped open. "How are you joking right now?" Clary asked him shrilly. "You threatened Luke! Luke likes you and he trusts you and he offered to let you sleep on his couch! And you're threatening him because he's a Downworlder?"

Isabelle's face twisted. "You brought Luke with you? Jeez, Clary, what have you done?"

Clary shook her head rapidly. "No. He left this morning. I don't know where to." She told them. She looked down at the floor, a defeated child. "You guys are right. We shouldn't have come. I shouldn't have made the portal."

" _What_?" The other four said simultaneously.

Eliza grabbed Clary by the shoulders. "What do you mean?" She asked harshly. "You can't make a Portal, Clarissa. Only warlocks can do that."

Isabelle agreed. "Plus, there aren't that many. There's only one here in Idris. At the Gard." She added.

Clary glanced at Eliza's hands on her shoulders. Quickly, Eliza withdrew, backing up several steps.

"That's exactly why I need to talk to you." Alec said, looking between Eliza and Jace. "About that…errand I went on last night. The package I delivered to the Gard." His words were clipped and uneven. His face was pale. What was wrong with him?

"Shut up, Alec." Jace snarled. Alec stared back at him, blue eyes wide. His lip worried between his teeth in impatience. Jace was glaring Clary down. "I know we were right." He finally said to her. "I know that Eliza told you that we didn't want you to come because it wasn't safe. That's not why I didn't want you to come." His words were hard as steel, cut and even. "I didn't want you to come because you're irrational and reckless. I knew you would mess everything up." He told her.

Eliza's eyes widened. She couldn't believe he had said it.

"What?" Clary whispered.

Isabelle softly said Jace's name, her dark eyes downturned sadly. He didn't bother to look at her.

"It's true." Jace went on. "You don't ever think before doing anything. If it hadn't been for you, we would have never ended up at the Dumont that night."

Her neck burned just thinking of that night. Was it bad that she hoped Raphael would slip up one day so she could get him back for ruining her neck?

Clary's glare hardened. "Simon would have died! It may have been rash, but we saved his life!"

"May have been?" Jace repeated.

"We?" Eliza said at the same time. "Sorry, I seem to remember not much effort on your part, Clary. Sure, I'll give you credit for the little hostage scenario that _didn't_ work and sticking one good throw on a werewolf, but that's it. _I_ got bitten. _I_ almost died, trying to distract that damn vampire while the two of you ran off with the rat."

Her sister's face didn't change. "You guys act like every single decision I've made since we've known each other has been a bad one. Both of you told me that what I did on the boat saved everyone."

If Jace could have paled anymore, he did. "Shit." Eliza muttered.

"Clary, SHUT UP!" Jace shouted down at her viciously.

Alec looked between the three of them. "Wait, what happened on the boat?" He asked. "What did she do?"

"We only said that so you wouldn't whine." Jace snarled at her. His anger felt just the way a storm did when it was about to erupt. "You need to realize that you'll never be like us, you'll never be a Shadowhunter. You're a mundane, through and through. You think like a mundane, only about what's best for yourself. You can't seem to think about what's best for everyone else. There's a war happening now and no one has the time or the desire to hang behind with you to make sure you don't get yourself or anyone else killed."

The room fell quiet. Clary was staring at Jace, Jace staring at Clary, Alec staring at Jace, Isabelle staring at them, Eliza staring at Jace.

"Clarissa." Eliza's voice broke the silence. Clary managed to tear her gaze away from Jace to look at her. "Go home. You don't belong here. You've put Luke in danger, you've put yourself in danger, you've put all of us in danger by coming here. As usual, you didn't think about the consequences of your actions. Only yourself." Clary's green eyes seemed to deflate and break. The usual spunk behind them had faded away. Eliza supposed that getting yelled at by two people relentlessly did that. "I know you want to be one of us, but you can't. You won't. So, just go home."

Clary spun around on her heel without saying a word. Alec and Isabelle moved so she could get through to the door. Eliza sucked in a breath just as Clary turned back around, her hand on the door knob. Eliza was reminded of a time, not so long ago, when Clary had tried to stop them from killing a demon. Albeit, Clary had thought the demon was boy. The same demon had warned Eliza of Valentine's arrival in New York. That night, everything had changed.

"You know," Clary spoke, "when I learned that the two of you were Valentine's children, I couldn't believe it. I didn't think either of you were anything like him, I never have. But now…Now, I know I was wrong because you are like him. More than anything." Without saying anything else, Clary left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Eliza told herself it had to be done. There wasn't another way.


	26. Chapter 26

Jace fell against the wall. His face was drawn together horribly wrong.

Alec started walking towards him, his face written with concern. "Guys, did you really mean-."

Jace glared up at him. "Get out." He told Alec. "All of you. Out."

Isabelle said no sharply. "What for? So you can continue to destroy your life? What was that about you two?" She asked them.

Jace glowered at her but said nothing. "She needed to go home." Eliza told Isabelle. "It was best for everyone."

"I think you guys did more than just make her go home." Isabelle muttered. "She looked completely shattered."

Jace said that it would be worth it in the end. Isabelle darkly said that she hoped he was right. "Please, Isabelle. Just go away. Leave me alone."

Isabelle and Alec looked at each other. Jace was hardly the one to ever say please. Alec leaned over and put a hand on Jace's shoulder. "She'll be fine." He assured Jace. "Right, Liz?" He looked up at Eliza. "She'll be okay?" Jace lifted his head, his face turned to Alec. He was staring right through him.

Surprising him, Eliza said no. Alec gave her a tired look. "She won't be okay. We said horrible things to her. I knew how much it would hurt her and so did Jace. But it doesn't matter because she had to go home. And that's where she's going."

Jace quietly agreed with her. "Alec, what did you want to tell us? You acted like it was really important."

Alec's face drew together. "I just didn't want to say anything in front of Clary…" Eliza raised her eyebrows. She asked what he meant by that. Had something happened to Simon? Eliza said Alec's name. "When I took Simon to the Gard yesterday, Malachi assured me that Magnus was going to be meeting Simon on the other side of the Portal. I sent a fire-message to Magnus last night to make sure. When he got back to me this morning, he told me Simon never came through. He said that there hasn't been any kind of Portal activity in New York since Clary came through to Alicante."

Eliza bit down on her bottom lip. "Malachi could have been mistaken." Isabelle told Alec. "Maybe he _thought_ Magnus was meeting Simon, but someone else did."

Alec said that wasn't it. "When I went to the Gard with Mom this morning, I saw Malachi. I can't exactly explain what happened, but I ducked behind a corner. He didn't see me and I overheard him with some of the guards. He was ordering them to take food to the vampire upstairs before the Inquisitor arrived to question him again." Isabelle said it could have been another vampire. "No. It was Simon. They were laughing about how naïve he was to believe they would really send him back to New York without an interrogation. And then one of the guards said he really couldn't believe anyone had the nerve to bring Simon to the Glass City. That's when Malachi said…" Alec didn't finish his sentence. His eyes traveled between Jace and Eliza, a worried look on his face.

Eliza crossed her arms over her chest. "What did Malachi say, Alec?" She asked him.

He swallowed. "He said 'What else would you expect from Valentine's children?'" He told her quietly.

"Oh, God." Isabelle murmured.

Eliza glanced at Jace. He looked sick, the circles under his eyes were dark, making his eyes look sunken and hollow. He had clenched his hands into tight fists at his sides. "It would have been different, had anyone else brought him through the Portal." Jace muttered. "If it would have been anyone else, they would have sent him back home without a second thought."

"Well, we very well couldn't leave him behind." Eliza told him. "He would have died."

Alec agreed, reminding Jace that they saved Simon's life. "All so he could be tortured by the Clave." Jace said bitterly. "Clary's going to think we did it on purpose." He told them. Alec said he was probably wrong, Clary knew better than that. "Did you hear the things we said to her, Alec?"

Isabelle assured him that it wouldn't be that way. Jace stood up and walked over to the window. The sunlight hit his hair in a way that turned it a bright gold. Before anyone could say anything else, the window shattered. Eliza shielded her face as broken glass sprayed the room.

She looked at him. He was staring down at his left hand. It was colored with thin lines of blood. Droplets fell onto the floor. She let out a half-concerned sigh.

"We're going to have a time explaining this to the Penhallows for sure." Isabelle said softly.

* * *

"What's the matter with Jace?" Isabelle asked. She carefully shut the door to the bedroom. Aline was lying on her bed, flipping absentmindedly through a book.

"You know how he is." Eliza told her. "He goes through moods."

"He seemed fine earlier." Aline noted, shutting her book.

 _Of course he was fine earlier, the two of you had your tongues down one another's throats_.

Isabelle frowned but didn't say anymore on the subject. "Did something happen with Clary?" Aline asked, observing the girl's absence.

"My sister decided to go back to New York. I convinced her that our mother needed her more than we do."

Aline nodded, seeming only half-interested in Clary's departure. "You and Jace didn't seem too glad to see her."

Isabelle snorted. She muttered that Aline didn't know the half of it. Eliza shot her a withering look. "It's complicated. Sibling stuff." Eliza told her.

"Complicated seems like the perfect word to describe your relationship with Jace." Aline replied casually. "The two of you seem close. Well, sometimes." Izzy said that complicated didn't begin to describe Eliza and Jace. Eliza asked what Aline meant by that. "Oh. Nothing offensive. I've just noticed that the two of you argue quite a lot, especially in the short time you've been here, but you also dote on each other a lot. I mean, Jace wasn't slow in mentioning how great of a Shadowhunter you are, and you aren't even legal yet."

So, everyone had a habit of noticing their affinity for each other it seemed. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to play the sibling card. "We're twins. We fight a lot, yes, but we also love each other." Maybe a little _too_ much. "We're as close as two people can be without being _parabatai_. We argue, we make up, we repeat the cycle until we die. Sometimes I'd like to rip his head off, but I would give my life for his in a heartbeat. I would do anything to protect my brother."

Even if it means lying to him. Even if it means breaking his heart. Watching him flirt with and kiss other girls.

 _Even if it means breaking my own heart_.

"You're a good sister. I wish I had someone watching out for me like that." Aline finally said. Isabelle told her that she had Sebastian. Sebastian was nice. And cute, Isabelle added with a light smile. "Right." Aline nodded unsurely.

Speaking of the devil in disguise, where the hell was he?

The knock on the door interrupted her thought. Isabelle opened the door. Jace was standing in the doorway, a bandage wrapped around his hand. He still didn't look well. If anything, he looked worse. He had the reckless look in his eyes. The I'm-about-to-do-something-stupid-and-dangerous-look.

"Jace." Aline seemed to perk up in his presence.

He mumbled a hello, but didn't take his eyes off Eliza. "Can we talk?" He asked in a low voice. She nodded. She left the room, closing the door softly behind herself. "Go to your room. Change clothes. We're leaving." He told her.

"Where?" She asked, her eyes trained on the end of the hallway.

He stopped in front of the door to the room she had been staying in. She was originally supposed to share the room with Clary, but that hadn't worked out, so she was alone in the small room. "We're going to break Simon out of the Gard." She told him that was crazy, they couldn't do it. "We're the reason he's in there. If you don't go, I'll just do it alone."

 _Damn it,_ she thought to herself _, he'll get himself killed if he goes alone. He's guilting me._ "Fine. Give me five minutes."

* * *

"This might be the dumbest idea you've ever had." She told him as they passed under another light.

The Gard wasn't that far anyway anymore. They'd stolen through the streets rather quickly. Stolen may not have been the best word. They weren't sneaking. They were walking, swiftly. If anyone asked, just a brother and sister on a walk.

"Maybe." He replied.

She finished adjusting the braces on her wrists. "We could get ourselves put in prison." She said.

He shrugged half-heartedly. "We didn't fare too bad last time."

She stared back at him, wide-eyed. "You must not remember the part where the Silent Brothers were slaughtered, Valentine stole the Angel's Sword and used a fear demon on us, and then you passed out."

"I remember." He told her. "But we didn't die." They walked right up to the Gard as if they belonged there. "I think the cells are around here."

The Gard was dark, no streetlights around to light the darkness of the night. Jace took out his witchlight stone and it lit up the small area around them.

They walked around the Gard until the found the sets of barred windows on the wall. Jace walked up to the wall and peered into several windows, quietly shouting Simon's name before stopping at one. He waved her over and pointed to the window.

Simon was in the cell, asleep.

"Simon. Get up. Simon." Jace whispered hurriedly, kneeling down on the grass.

Simon stirred, getting to his feet quickly. He looked around the cell. "Samuel? Is that you?" He called out.

Eliza frowned. Who in the Angel's name was Samuel? Did Simon have prison friends? She got on her knees next to Jace. "Simon." She sighed. "Come over to the window."

He walked over, a confused look on his face. "Did you have a nightmare?" Jace asked.

"I think I'm still in it." Simon replied in a hostile voice.

Jace canvassed the cell he was in. "I thought they didn't use these anymore. I think I gave your friend in the cell next to you a little surprise. He's not bad looking." Jace told him.

Simon's fangs had extended, just barely touching his lower lip. "You could pretend to be happy to see us." Eliza said with a smile.

His expression didn't change. "I can't help but feel like you knew this would happen." He told them. "I feel like you guys knew I wouldn't be sent back to New York. How can I tell anyone that you lied about Clary if I'm in prison?"

Her face fell. "We didn't know." She assured him.

"We thought you'd be sent back. I know you don't believe it." Jace added on.

"Then you've got to be stupid. Or lying. Maybe both." Simon insisted.

Eliza rolled her eyes. "We're both stupid, then." She said, surprising both of them. "What? Simon, you really think that if I'd been lying you would know it? I told you: I'm the best liar I know. I don't get caught in a lie unless I want to be."

Simon relented. "Fine."

"Thank the Angel." Jace sighed. "And can you quit with the fangs? You're freaking me out." He waved his hand. Simon said he smelled like blood. Jace lifted his hand, showing off his bandage wrapped hand.

"Don't you have ways to fix that?" Simon asked.

Jace said yes. "Alec is trying to teach me a lesson by letting me heal slowly. Like a mundane."

Eliza couldn't help the smile. Good for Alec.

"Small problem for you. I've got big ones." Simon told them. "The Inquisitor is trying to make me confess than I'm a spy for Valentine and that he's the reason I can walk in the sun." Jace and Eliza shared a look. "He said that's what the whole Clave thinks." He continued.

"That isn't good." Jace said.

Simon said no kidding. "No, Simon, it's really bad." Eliza told him. "Once the Clave unanimously agrees that you're a spy, the Accords will no longer apply to you. They'll kill you, more than likely."

Simon, if at all possible, seemed to blanch.

"All the more reason we've got to get you out of here." Jace stated.

"What next?" Simon asked them. "Where do you plan on hiding the most famous vampire in Alicante?"

She hadn't thought that one through. Had Jace? She looked at him. "There's a Portal in the Gard. We'll send you through it." He decided.

Simon shook his head. "You don't understand. I'm not the only part of the problem for the Clave. The Inquisitor said that they want to prove that the Lightwoods are still loyal to Valentine."

Jace's face darkened. "That's not true, though." Eliza stated. "Everyone knows that they fought against Valentine last week. Robert Lightwood almost lost his life on that ship."

Simon said that didn't matter, not to the Clave. "Aldertree told me that they're trying to play it off as some big illusion on the Lightwood's part. That they only pretended to fight and they sacrificed other Nephilim so it seemed like they were against Valentine." Jace said that was insane. There was no way anyone would believe that. "He just needs someone to blame everything on, Jace. The Clave lost the Mortal Sword and he wants to blame everyone on the Lightwoods so that the Clave doesn't look bad in the end." He explained.

Aldertree, she was realizing, was just as bad as Imogen Herondale. Maybe worse. Definitely worse.

Jace ran his fingers through his hair. "We can't just leave you here." He spoke. "If Clary finds out about this-."

"Of course." Simon cut him off. "That's all you're worried about. You don't even care about me. You're just worried about what Clary will think of her two perfect siblings." He took several unnecessary deep breaths. "It's simple. You just don't tell her. She's in New York, gladly." He fell silent for a short moment. "It's good she isn't here. You guys were right."

Eliza drew closer to the barred window. "Why do you say that?"

Simon looked up at her. "After talking to the Inquisitor, I realized you were right. The Clave would try to weaponize her because of what she can do."

Eliza sunk down into the grass. She let her legs fall down so that she was properly sitting on the ground.

"So, you're saying you want to stay in there?" Jace clarified. "For how long?"

Simon shrugged, saying until a better plan made an appearance. "Can I ask a favor, though?" He inquired.

"Sure." Eliza mused. "Whatever you want." It was the least they could do for getting him locked away.

"I'm starving. Aldertree is withholding blood, he thinks it'll make me talk. I don't want to give in, but I don't think I'll last much longer, if you know what I mean." Eliza said she couldn't give him blood, she didn't want to choke him again. "No. That's not what I meant. Animal blood would be perfect. I don't ever want to drink from anyone again."

Jace said they could get him blood. "Hey, did you happen to mention to the Inquisitor that we gave you blood? That I let you drink from me on the ship to save you?" Simon said no. "Well, why not?"

"I didn't want you to be in any more trouble than you already are." Simon admitted quietly.

"How sweet." Eliza muttered.

"Don't bother protecting me." Jace told Simon. "Protect the Lightwoods as much as you can, but don't bother about me." Simon asked why. "I don't deserve it." Jace responded.

Eliza got to her feet and brushed off the back of her pants. She pulled Jace to his feet. She looked at Simon through the window. "We've got to go. We'll be back with blood when we can." She promised.

* * *

She had made up her mind. Once she returned to New York, she was going to break up with Declan. It wasn't fair to him, for her to be constantly pining after Jace and only giving half of herself to Declan. Especially when he cared so deeply for her. And her friends.

It was only right.

 _Besides_ , she told herself, _it isn't as if there's any future there anyway_. He was a vampire and she was a Shadowhunter. She knew in her heart that she would never turn into a vampire. Not willingly.

"Where is Sebastian?" She asked Isabelle. She hadn't seen him in an uncomfortable amount of time.

The other girl was lounged lazily on Eliza's bed, painting away at her fingernails. "Don't know. Aline said he was going out today."

Out? What in the hell did he have to do?

 _Little dove._

The voice drew her from her thoughts, a splash of cold water in the face.

 _Magnus? Is everything all right? Alec filled us in. Simon's safe, for now._

 _Yes, well, the thing is. I'm in Idris. We need to talk. Preferably soon. Very soon._

Magnus was in Idris? Her head felt as if it were going to implode. _Okay. I know just the place. I'll leave now._

She thought of the place in her mind, sharing the information with him. She glanced back at Isabelle, adding the finishing touches to her nails. "I've got to go out, Izzy. I'll be back later." The girl didn't look up from her nails, giving only a slight hum of a response. Eliza grabbed her cardigan from the bedpost and left the room.

* * *

Magnus was waiting for her under the willow tree. He had that look of particular annoyance written on his face, the one that meant he was cross with her for a reason she was not yet aware of.

"I'm surprised that you wanted to meet here." He told her, glancing at the cottage. "It doesn't seem like your favorite place."

She shrugged and pulled her cardigan closer over her chest as the breeze blew through. "Oddly enough, I feel free when I'm here. No one else knows where it is. I can be alone."

Magnus nodded thoughtfully, walking closer to her. She asked why he was in Idris. "I received a message from Ragnor Fell last night. Ring any bells?"

She said yes. "That woman, Madeleine, she told Clary that Ragnor Fell could help our mother. That was why Clary wanted to come here."

"Bingo." He pointed his finger at her. "Speaking of your spitfire little sister, I just left her."

Her eyes widened. " _What?_ "

His cat eyes gleamed. "Clary was at Fell's house earlier today. You can imagine how shocked she was when I greeted her instead of Ragnor. Since, you know, he's dead. Your father sent some of his people after him. I don't suppose he got the information he wanted."

She crossed her arms over her chest. She lifted her head, looking at the clear blue of the sky. "Magnus, the point?" She sighed.

"Ragnor left me a message before he died. Valentine was searching for the Book of the White. It has the antidote to the potion that your mother took." She asked if they found it. Or had Ragnor been able to keep it hidden? She desperately hoped it was the latter. "The book was in your mother's possession, little dove. And I know where she hid it."

Her head snapped back down fiercely. "Where?"

"Wayland Manor. In the library. It's concealed in a recipe book. I've told Clarissa. But…" She raised an eyebrow. There was always a condition with him. "The manor is heavily warded. I believe that the only way in would be with Jace's assistance."

 _Of course._

She leaned against the tree. She'd really screwed up. Magnus asked what was wrong. "Jace and I…we said horrible things to Clary when she showed up alone yesterday. We were awful, Magnus. If she forgives us, I'll be surprised. But it isn't safe for her here and I wish she would realize that."

He gave her a sympathetic look. He reached and put a firm hand on her shoulder. "Little dove, the safest place for Clarissa is with the two people who care most about her. Those people just so happen to be you and Jace." He wasn't wrong. But they couldn't protect Clary from the Clave. They weren't fully sanctioned Shadowhunters yet. If the Clave wanted to use Clary, they didn't really have a way to stop them. "Besides, Clary wasn't alone when she came to Ragnor's."

"What do you mean? Was Luke with her?"

He shook his head. "Quite the opposite, actually. Some handsome devil named Sebastian Verlac. Do you know him?"

* * *

She was going to kill him. If he laid one finger on Clary, if he so much as plucked a hair from her head, she was going to make him think that Valentine was a fairy princess.

He returned just after twilight. He wore an unusual expression on his face. As soon as he walked through the door, she was on him. Her hand was tightly wrapped around his bicep and she dragged him right back out the door. She didn't say a word as she hauled him behind the house to the canal.

"I know where you were today." She hissed.

Amusement. That was the expression he wore. His dark eyes twinkled and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "And how would that be?"

She resisted the urge to punch him. He wouldn't talk if she resorted to violence so quickly. "I have my ways. It doesn't matter." She said. "You were with Clary."

The smile wormed its way back onto his face. She hated his smile. He tried hard to make it seem kind in front of others, but it was malicious. "Are you jealous that I'm spending time with our little sister instead of you? And here I thought you didn't much care for me." He chuckled. "She's a special girl, our sister. Naïve and trusting, but I can tell that she shares our blood. I hope to get to know her better."

Her eyes changed. The green dissolving to a void black, the same color as her twin's.

She couldn't help herself. Her hand jutted out, her fist slamming into his left cheekbone. She stared back at him as he held his cheek. "Stay the hell away from her or so help me God, I'll kill you."

His hand dropped. She expected him to lash out. To yell, to hit her back. Push her in the canal. But, he didn't. He stood there. And he laughed. "Oh, sister. Your threats don't pack any meaning. You and I both know that you don't have what it takes to kill someone. Sure, you can kill demons all day if you want, but you don't have it in you to take the life of a real person."

She stepped closer to him. "Good thing I don't think of you as a person, Jonathan." She whispered. She drew back, her mouth set firmly. "Like I said, stay away from Clarissa."

When she went back into the house, she made a beeline to the room Alec and Jace were sharing. Thankfully, it was just Jace. She wasn't in the mood to deal with Alec.

"I've been thinking." She told him, shutting the door quietly.

He looked up from inspecting his injured knuckles. "A dangerous thing." He bemused. With a disconcerted look from her, he recanted. "What's on your mind?"

"Clary." The two of them had laid it on thick with her. Eliza was sure that she had probably cried once out of the Penhallow house. Jace asked what she meant. "We were horrible to her. She's already here and I really believe that the safest place for her would be with us. I think we should find her and make amends." Especially if her monstrous brother was going to be running after Clary.

He sat up straight up straight. "If you think we should, then we should." He finally said. Well, she hadn't expected him to agree so quickly. "Right now?" The quicker the better, she told him. He got up from the bed and pulled his boots on. "Liz."

She took out her stele, twirling it between her fingers, over her knuckles. She raised her head just a little, indicating that she was listening.

"About what you saw…With Aline. I-."

She stared back at him, her green eyes cut narrowly. "You don't need to explain yourself, Jace." He had an indignant look on his face. There were words he wanted to say. "I promise." She smiled half-heartedly.

* * *

Amatis Herondale's house wasn't very far from the Penhallow's. A short walk, maybe twenty minutes.

Jace knocked sharply on the door using his uninjured hand. After a few tense moments, the door swung open. The woman before them brought a tinge of familiarity to Eliza's brain. Her greying brown hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, her blue eyes keenly bright.

"I would know that hair anywhere." The woman said, her eyes trained on Eliza. "You must Eliza."

She nodded. "And my brother, Jace. We're here to see Clary."

Amatis stepped aside, letting them in. She led them to the kitchen and they sat at the small table. Amatis put several plates of food on the table. A bowl of fresh fruit, a plate that had warmed bread and butter on it, and a plate of sweet-smelling cookies. "Make yourselves comfortable. I'll send Clary down. She just got in."

Amatis disappeared from the kitchen. Jace happily took a cookie, turning it over in his bandaged hand.

"I didn't expect to see, or hear, from you guys again." Clary's voice alerted them to her presence.

Eliza perked up, joyed to see that Clary didn't look at all hurt. Just tired. Except for her eyes, those were the dark green of anger. Rightfully so.

Jace shrugged, biting into the cookie. "Amatis mentioned you were out. Where'd you go?"

"I was with Sebastian."

Eliza's hands curled into fists that she hid under the table. "How did that happen?" She asked.

"He offered to walk me home last night, after-." She made the correct choice in abruptly ending the sentence. It would only start a fight. One Eliza knew they didn't have the time for. "He's been the only nice person since I got here."

 _Nice_. Definitely not a word on the list she would have used to describe him. Then again, she knew him better than anyone else did. They had shared a womb together. A small room in a small cottage.

"No matter." Eliza told her. "We came to apologize." She spared Jace a glance. He was finishing off his cookie. "Didn't we?"

He said yes, mouthful of cookie. A crumb fell from his mouth. "We realized that we shouldn't have acted the way we did last night."

Clary's mouth twitched. "I couldn't agree more."

"We also came to see if you would go back to New York." Jace said.

Eliza whipped her head over, staring at him in disbelief. She was going to wring his neck. "No, Jace. That isn't what we-."

"C'mon, Liz. You and I both know that even though we can protect her from a lot, we can't protect her from the Clave."

Eliza's eyes slid over to Clary. He wasn't wrong. "Oh, you mean that you won't be able to keep them from throwing me in jail like they did to Simon?" Clary asked them icily.

 _Damn it_ , Eliza thought. She knew exactly who had spilled the beans. He had probably been elated to tell her.

Jace leaned back in the chair, face void of anything too telling. Eliza rested her forearms on the table. "How did you find out?" She asked quietly.

"Sebastian." Clary said haughtily. Just as she had thought. "He told me exactly what happened. That the two of you dragged him here and then you let him get thrown in _prison_. If you're trying to get me to hate you, it's working."

Eliza heaved out a sigh. "You trust Sebastian more than you trust us?"

"You barely know him." Jace added.

She may have barely known him, but Sebastian was more Clary's brother than Jace would ever be. "What, it isn't true?" Clary snapped. "Are you saying he lied?"

Eliza grimaced. "Not exactly." She said softly. "We had to bring Simon. It was that or let him get killed by Forsaken. And then we were told that the Clave was sending him home. Obviously, we found out that we were lied to. But Jace and I have checked on him. We're getting him blood."

Next thing she knew, Clary had picked up a plate and thrown it. It hit the wall above the sink and broke into pieces. "Oh, you checked on him? Then everything must be fine. It isn't like my best friend is in _prison_! Simon trusted the two of you!"

Jace got to his feet, looking at her as if she were a madwoman. Clary was a little more stubborn than she had thought. "I think you're overreacting just a little, Clarissa. I told you that Simon is fine. We checked on him." Eliza insisted.

Clary's eyes were a dark green, molten anger. "Right. And this was before or after I came to the Penhallows?"

Jace let out a choked laugh. He was clearly amused by something she didn't understand. Maybe she didn't want to. His laugh was enough to send Clary over the edge. She lunged towards him and sent both of them back towards the counter. Clary fell forward against him and raised her hand to hit him. Jace's hand curled around her fist and he forced her arm down.

"If I let you go, you can't hit me." Jace warned her.

Clary huffed. "You deserve it."

Eliza moved quickly across the room. She gently put her hands on Clary's shoulders and pulled her back from Jace. "If you're going to punch him, you might as well punch me too. We brought Simon here together." She reminded her.

"You really think we'd go through the trouble of planning for Simon to get locked up?" Jace asked.

Clary frowned, looking between the two of them. "Well, neither of you have really ever liked Simon that much. Have you?" She accused.

Oh, she was being unbelievable.

Jace stared back at her. He held up his right wrist, showing Clary a jagged scar just under his palm. "That's where I cut myself on the ship. To let Simon drink my blood so he wouldn't die." He looked past her to Eliza. "And let's not forget that Liz quite literally almost gave her neck to save Simon's life. And she let him drink from her after we got here."

She glanced between Jace and Eliza, obviously troubled. Eliza's face softened. "Clary, Simon isn't just your friend anymore. He's ours too. We care about him. We wouldn't just abandon him."

"Sebastian said-." Clary started.

Eliza made an indignant noise in her throat. "Frankly, Clary, I don't care what that cretin said to you. He was lying." Jace seemed surprised. He had clearly thought, like everyone else, that she had a soft spot for the boy. How wrong they were.

"But…But you actually believed them when they said that they would send him back?"

Eliza groaned. "Clary, the only Portal in Idris is inside the Gard. Of course, we believed them." Jace told her. Clary asked why they believed the Clave, especially after how crazy Inquisitor Herondale had been. "Because it's the Clave, Clary. The Inquisitor was the exception, not the rule. All Nephilim are meant to abide by the Law, and most do so happily." He sighed, leaning back on the counter. "Valentine told me how corrupt the Clave was. At first, I didn't believe him. But now I do."

Now _that_ was crazy talk.

"Things need fixed." Clary said softly. "Just not by his ways."

Eliza nodded slowly in agreement. "Jace, I hate to say it, but maybe your old method of not trusting anyone should be put back to use." She mused.

He arched an eyebrow. "Maybe so." He said thickly.

"Can you take me to see him? Simon, I mean." Clary asked them.

"Absolutely not." They both said.

She asked why not. "Clary, you aren't even supposed to be in Idris. That means you definitely can't go walking into the Gard asking to see a prisoner no one is supposed to know about." Jace reminded her hotly.

Clary began to object, but Eliza cut in. "He's fine as can be, Clary. I promise. We saw him. We even offered to bust him out but he said no." Clary made a noise of surprise.

"What does that mean? Why would he do that?"

Eliza put her hands on the table, leaning back carefully. "Inquisitor Aldertree is asking him a lot of questions. He plans on blaming this entire mess with Valentine on the Lightwoods and he needs Simon's help to do it." Clary asked how Simon could do that. "He wants Simon to spin some wicked story that the Lightwoods are still allied with Valentine. Simon wanted to stay inside the Gard because he knew that Aldertree would know who got him out. And that wouldn't be good for the Lightwoods." She explained.

"We can't leave him in there forever." Clary stated, rather obviously. Eliza said that they didn't plan to. They just needed time to think of a good plan. "What if I already have one?" Clary asked quietly. Eliza raised her eyebrows, telling her to share. "The two of you, and the Lightwoods, need to be seen. You need an alibi. Then, we can get Magnus to bust Simon out and take him back to New York."

Jace had confusion written all over his handsome face. "Look, Clary, it's a good idea, but Magnus won't go for it. He's got it bad for Alec, but not that bad, I don't think."

Clary's eyes shone. "He'd do it. Not for Alec, but probably for the Book of the White."

Eliza pushed off the table. Jace asked what she was talking about. Clary explained to them about how she and Sebastian had gone to Ragnor Fell's and Magnus had been there instead, because Ragnor was dead. She told them everything Magnus had told her about the Book of the White and where to find it.

Jace's gaze moved to Eliza. "Did you know he was here? Magnus."

Her face had guilt written all over it. Jace's eyes narrowed. "I found out before we came here. Before Sebastian came back to the house. Magnus asked me to meet him and he told me everything. That's why I suggested we come here. We need the Book of the White to wake our mother up."

"Could Valentine want it for that same reason?" Clary asked her. Both of them said they didn't know. It was possible, but it was also possible that he wanted the book because it was another powerful relic. "Is there any chance at all that the book is in Wayland Manor?" Clary inquired hopefully.

Jace smiled tightly. "For sure. I've seen the cookbook before, the one Magnus is talking about. It's one of the few in the house."

Hope was not a familiar feeling to her. It didn't come easily and it didn't stay long. But there it was, nestled comfily in her heart. No doubt soon to be ripped out.

"Great. Then, let's go." Eliza told them. "We need to get our hands on that book before Valentine does."

Clary agreed wholeheartedly. "I promise that once we get the book, I'll go back. I'll take Simon and go back to New York." She informed them.

Jace and Eliza shared a wary look. "It won't be a short trip to the manor." Jace finally said. "Probably about five hours walking distance."

She wondered if there was any chance they could eat first. Clary took Jace's stele, holding it firmly in her hands. "What if we don't have to walk?" She asked mysteriously.

* * *

It felt like being sucked into a tornado.

From the moment Clary had put Jace's stele in her hand, Eliza should have known to expect something out of the ordinary. And that was saying a lot, because nothing about her life was ordinary anymore.

Her face smacked against the cold flooring. There'd easily be a bruise tomorrow. A groan escaped her as she pushed herself off the floor and into a kneeling position.

The room they were in felt like something out of an old horror movie. Every piece of furniture in the room was covered by thin white sheets. A ratty old Persian rug was thrown over the floor. The velvety curtains that covered the windows had turned grey with dust.

Clary was on her back in the middle of the rug, Jace nowhere in sight. "If either of you says that was fun, I'm kicking both your asses." Eliza said thickly. She stood up and gently rubbed the place on her cheek where she had hit the floor.

Jace stood up from where he had landed behind a large piece of furniture. "You guys all right?" He asked, pushing his hair from his face.

Clary got to her feet. "I think that if Eliza doesn't kill me, Amatis probably will." Clary grasped at her elbow, working her fingers over it.

"For throwing her plates?" Eliza quipped sarcastically.

Clary smiled. "That. And the whole opening a Portal in the middle of her kitchen thing."

For just a few seconds, the only sound was the three of them laughing. The harmonious sound died off slowly until silence enveloped the room. "Liz, you gotta admit, it was impressive." Jace told her.

He was right. What Clary had done, opening a Portal in Amatis' kitchen, it was unimaginable. Something that shouldn't have been possible. But she had done it.

"Impressive. Not fun." Eliza admitted.

Clary's eyes traveled around the room, a strange look in her eyes. "You grew up here?" She asked Jace. "It feels like a fairy tale story house."

Jace snorted. "Horror story, actually." Jace corrected. He looked far away, remembering times that had come and gone. Times he had probably once thought of fondly, but now remembered with an abhorrent dissatisfaction. "It didn't feel this empty when I was younger."

"How about cold?" Clary said as a shiver ran through her body. She pulled the coat closer to her. Jace said no, it had always been cold there.

He took out his witchlight stone and it brought a cool light to the room. "We're in the study." He told them. "The book is in the library."

Eliza took out her witchlight stone and it came to light in her hand. Rays of white light fell over her face. Once they left the room, they entered a long hallway. Each side of the hall was plastered with mirrors that showed their own reflections. She caught both Jace and Clary checking themselves out. Clary looked displeased at her appearance, while Jace, naturally, seemed perfectly happy.

"Guys. Time-sensitive mission. Which doesn't include time for the two of you to admiring yourselves." Eliza snapped at them. "Jace, the library." She waved her head forward for him.

He rolled his eyes, walking in front of them. Eliza grabbed Clary by the arm, pulling her close to her. They walked by several rooms, some were closed off, some open for public viewing. Clearly, no one had been in the house since Jace had been shipped off to live with the Lightwoods seven years ago.

"I need you to do me a favor." Eliza whispered to Clary. She looked up to make sure Jace wasn't paying them any mind.

"What's up?" Clary asked just as quietly.

Eliza's tongue wiped over her lips as she thought over the words in her head. "Stay away from Sebastian. You have to promise me."

Clary tried to stop walking, but Eliza continued to pull her further down the hall. "What? Why? He's nice."

Eliza exhaled softly. It wasn't like she could _tell_ her who he really was. As much as Clary, and everyone else, deserved to know who Sebastian really was. But telling the truth, as always, proved to be more dangerous.

"I know. I know he seems nice and charming. But he isn't. You have to promise me that you'll stay away from Sebastian."

Clary frowned at her and managed to stop walking. "Eliza, I don't understand." She said. "Sebastian _loves_ you. He's always said really nice stuff about you to me. Tell me what happened."

Her eyes looked furtively over at Jace. He was still walking, a little slowly. Taking everything in. Eliza pocketed her witchlight and put her hands on Clary's shoulders. "He is a snake in the tall grass, Clarissa." She hissed. "You can't trust him. Promise me that you'll stay away from him."

Clary bit down on her lip. "Okay. I won't talk to him anymore."

Eliza made a noise in her throat. "You have to _promise_."

Green eyes on green eyes. The same green. The same color of the forest after it rained.

"Fine. I promise." Clary mumbled.

Eliza smiled freshly and let her hands fall. She murmured a thank you and turned to keep walking behind Jace.

"So, uh, I'm guessing Valentine didn't stay here after you left?" Clary asked Jace.

He hesitated his movements, but continued on. "Doesn't seem like it."

"After he faked his death, he came back to the cottage. Full time." Eliza told them. Jace looked back at her, the witchlight causing his eyes to shine. His mouth was turned down ever so slightly. "I used to love whenever he would go off to be with you." She told him. "He'd be gone for weeks at a time. I'd be…alone." She sighed. It wasn't alone, not really. Jonathan had always been there, as well as Marisol. But Marisol was useless without Valentine. She did nothing unless she was told to. A robot, in essence. Jonathan had tended to leave her alone in the absence of their father.

She felt guilty thinking the words, let alone saying them aloud. Jace had spent years mourning the man he believed to be his father. She didn't want him to feel worse because she got the raw end of the deal.

Jace didn't say anything, thank the Angel. He just turned back around and kept walking. Her hand reached out and ran over one of the crystal doorknobs of a closed door. Her hand kept going, her fingers dusting over the edge of a gold mirror frame.

Valentine, all those weeks ago, had promised to take them both home. One small step through the mirror would take them home.

Except, she didn't actually know where _home_ was for Valentine. He clearly didn't consider home to be Wayland Manor. He had abandoned it after faking his death. She didn't believe he thought of Marisol's small cottage as home either. She hadn't been inside since returning to Alicante, but the cottage looked untouched. Fairchild Manor was out since he had turned it to ash and dust so long ago.

Jace drew to a stop in front of a door that closed off the hallway to another part of the house. Jace rammed his shoulder into the door and it busted it in.

She knew instantly that they were in the library. Walls covered in shelves of books with old and worn binding. Wooden ladders that cased the ends of the shelves. The velvet green curtains were coated in a thick layer of white dust. One of the windows had a cushioned seat attached to it, making for a small reading nook.

Outside of the colored glass windows, the world was dark.

"Cozy." Eliza hummed.

Jace made an agreeing sound. "He used to assign me readings each day. I'd come in here and sit in the window to do them. Each day had a different language. Saturdays were French and Sundays were English." There was just a hint of wistfulness in his voice, heavily masked by bitterness. "Latin was on Tuesdays, I think. Maybe Mondays…?"

Jace had a _reading_ schedule? She fought back a cold laugh. Wayland Manor had been, as Clary said, a fairy tale. Full of spaghetti baths and window readings. She was sure that Jace had run down the halls of the house, laughing.

His was a house of dreams. Hers was a house of horrors.

Jace moved across the room, making a beeline for the furthest wall. He bent down, inspecting the rows of books. When he stood up, he had one in his hand. "Found it." He walked back over to them, showing it off.

 _Simple Recipes for Housewives_. The perfect cover. Valentine never would have looked. Clary snatched the book from his hands. Clary's hands shook as she opened the book carefully. Dust billowed up in the air. Eliza coughed, waving her hands around to get rid of the dust.

There was a square hole cut out of the middle of the book. Inside of it fit another, smaller book, bound in white leather. Ancient wording was scrawled on the front of the book.

"What does it say?" Clary asked them quietly. "What language even is _that_?"

Eliza took the books from her. She squinted down, trying to unscramble the words in her mind. "It's Greek." She hadn't actually tried to read anything so ancient in a few years. "All I can make out is _Book of the White_. The rest is…I can't figure it out." She closed the larger recipe book and handed it back to Clary. The younger girl put it in the pocket of her coat. "Magnus can figure it out, more than likely."

Jace had already taken his mind off the book they had come for. He had instead turned his attention to the multitude of books on the various shelves. "Why don't you take some of them with you?" Clary suggested.

His hand fell from one of the lower shelves. "I haven't read a lot of these books." He told them. "I could only read the books he assigned me." He lifted his head up and pointed to the dark leather-bound books on the upper shelves. When his gaze fell back down, it was trained on Eliza. "I snuck in here once to read one of them. It wasn't actually a book. It was a journal. He kept them and he wrote things about me. " _My son, Jonathan Christopher_ …That was the day I found out I had a middle name."

Journals. He had kept journals about Jace. Which meant there was no way there weren't journals about her and the real Jonathan. There was the off-and very real- chance that Jace had read something about the real Jonathan and not himself.

"Naturally, I got caught. I was only six, I wasn't very stealthy back then. He lashed me with a belt five times when he found out." He laughed dryly.

"You can't get caught now." Clary reminded him. Before either of them could stop her, she was struggling to reach up to the top shelf of books and knocking down one of the journals. It fell to the ground in front of their feet.

Jace objected but Clary continued to knock down the journals from the shelves. Airy clouds of dust began to fill the space. Eliza bent down and plucked up one of the journals. She flipped it open a few pages.

 _Eliza has done it again_.

Her legs felt weak. She got down and sat on the floor, crossing her legs. Her fingers skimmed over the page, her bottom lip worrying between her teeth.

 _My daughter is unnaturally insolent. She is nothing at all like Jonathan. For her to have come into the world with Jonathan and share his DNA is a concept I would not have believed had I not watched their birth myself._

 _She does not listen, she questions everything. I wonder where I went wrong with her. She is nothing like Jonathan. The only hope I have for her is that punishment will dissolve her disobedient nature and create the child I wish to have. She is strong-willed. I see the tears when I must punish her, and yet she never lets them fall. I hope that with more time and punishment, she will become what I need her to be. Pliant and malleable, forever obedient to my every demand, undyingly loyal._

 _Yet, she is mine. However contemptuous she grows, I will never forget that she is my blood. Of me came her. I made her, I created her. The blood of me and the blood of others flows in her. It is not as obvious as with Jonathan, but still I see it. She has her particularly nasty moments, and that is when I see my hard work shine through her. A temper like her brother and my own charm._

 _A beautiful monster I have set for her to be. A face that will launch a thousand ships. A monster to help win my war. My soldier, my daughter._

She wanted to vomit. Her stomach churned and she slammed the book shut. Both Jace and Clary looked at her. She stood up, clutching the book tightly to her chest.

"What is it?" Jace asked her. She shook her head, saying it was nothing. They had practically wiped out the whole top shelf of books. Several of Valentine's journals were strewn on the floor. "Wait. Do you guys hear that?" He whispered.

She cocked her head, straining her ears. She could barely hear it. A high-pitched whirring sound. Like pieces of machinery grinding together. It was close by. She stepped closer to the wall, the sound growing louder.

She got a little closer to inspect it. The stones made a sort of creaking screaming noise and began to slide back from each other. "What the hell?" She murmured. The stones had created a door-like hole in the wall. She could make out a descending stairway in the darkness.

How _like_ her father to have a secret staircase hidden in the bookcase.

She looked back at Jace and Clary, her eyebrows slanted in a precarious fashion. A little too risky.


	27. Chapter 27

"I don't remember us having a basement." Jace told them.

Eliza shined her witchlight into the darkness. She could see that the walls were made of a slimy dark stone. An odor drifted up and she recognized it as moisture. It was mixed in with something else she couldn't recognize. It smelled slightly metallic.

"I wonder what's down there." Clary wondered.

Eliza didn't say anything as she started to descend the stairs. "Be careful, they're slick." She warned them. Jace asked if she was sure she wanted to go down first. "Oh, you ask after I've started down the stairs?" She muttered.

She adjusted, holding the journal under her armpit and using her newly freed hand to keep her balance by holding the wall. When she glanced back, she saw Jace behind her and Clary behind him.

The further they went, the closer the spiral of stairs came together. The passageway became tighter and tighter. The more stairs they went down, the stronger the metallic stench got.

At the bottom of the stairway, the steps widened into a large room. The dark stones of the wall were stained with rusty looking streaks. Strange markings were etched onto the floor. She recognized that some of them were Marks. Small white stones were strewn seemingly haphazardly around the room.

She heard something crunch behind her. "These are bones." Clary whispered.

"Hold this." She took the book from under her arm and offered it back to Clary. Clary pocketed it along with the recipe book. She bent over and softly touched one of the bones. They were all different sizes and different kinds of bones. Bones from different people. They weren't shaped correctly to be animal bones. Not all of them, anyway.

He was _sick_. Disgusting.

"Oh, my God. What was he doing in here?" Clary's voice was shaking.

Eliza stood up straight. She didn't want to say it. And she didn't have to. "Experiments." Jace told her. "Just like the Seelie Queen told us."

The fey couldn't lie. They all knew that. Somewhere, deep down, Eliza had hoped that Valentine had been lying to the Seelie Queen. She had hoped that she was wrong about it all. But the secret room and the journal entry confirmed everything she had thought.

"Maybe we should go back upstairs…?" Clary proposed.

It wasn't an idea that Jace or Eliza supported. Jace lifted his witchlight stone, illuminating the rest of the room. The room was square. Three of the four corners of the room were barren. The fourth corner was covered by a dark curtain hanging. The curtain was carelessly thrown over something. Or… _someone?_

"Guys, what is that?" Clary uttered.

Jace had taken out a seraph blade. Eliza took out her sword. "Clary, stay back." Eliza told her. Jace went forward, not heeding Clary's pleads for him to leave whatever it was alone.

Jace yanked the curtain forward and it fell. The curtain fell to the floor in a heap at Jace's feet.

He staggered back, nearly falling, dropping his witchlight stone. Eliza's hands jutted out and grabbed onto his arms, balancing him before he could fall to the floor. He turned his head, making eye contact with her. His face was sheet white, his eyes wide and dark.

Clary had grabbed his witchlight and picked it up from the floor. Eliza gazed past Jace, who refused to look at whatever he had seen.

"Oh, God."

It was a man, tightly clinging a white rag around his shoulders. He was kneeling on the floor, manacled to the wall by his ankles and wrists. Rays of light bounced off the walls of the room. Once it focused again, she saw that he was impossibly thin. His limbs were covered in thick scars.

Her back burned.

The man's head moved and he was staring at them. Eliza jumped back a few inches. The man's eye sockets were voids of black. A rustling noise made her start to turn before she realized that the noise was coming from the rags around the man. And that the rags weren't actually rags. They were lifting from around his shoulders and spreading out.

No, not rags.

 _Wings_.

"Jace, you said there were no angels." Clary uttered in a small voice. "You said no one had ever seen one before."

Jace's lips were moving, but Eliza couldn't make out any of the words he was saying. He moved away from Eliza. He took a few steps forward towards the man- no, the angel- and stumbled back again.

Eliza glanced at the floor, seeing the carefully drawn pentagram that surrounded the angel. "We can't go past the runes." She stated rather dully.

"There has to be something we can do." Jace persisted.

The angel lifted his head once again. In the lighting, Eliza realized that his hair was eerily similar to Jace's. The same golden crown of curls. He looked awful, his face cut up with scars. His mouth fell open, emitting a shrieking sound.

She recognized it as pain, but it sounded melodically beautiful. It was high-pitched, sweet sounding and soul-piercing.

Eliza's witchlight clattered to the floor as she covered her ears. Her mind flashed with images that she couldn't piece together. She squinted her eyes shut.

The images came together, showing the picture of an empty wine cellar. There was a large rune carved into the middle of the floor. Next to the rune, stood a man. In his hands he held a torch and an opened book. It wasn't any man, she realized. His hair was a pale white in the light of the torch.

Valentine.

He looked different, more careless than she remembered. He was younger. His mouth moved, reciting words she didn't know.

Fire encompassed the rune on the floor and when the flames died down, they had been replaced by a heaped body. Bloody wings were spread on the floor.

Again, the scene changed.

Valentine and a redhaired woman were standing in front of a window. _Jocelyn,_ Eliza realized. Both were young and beautiful. Jocelyn was wearing a flowing white nightdress, her stomach bulging. _Pregnant._ Valentine wrapped his arms around her in an embrace.

"Jocelyn, the Accords have been the worst idea that the Clave could have created. An impending disaster to the Nephilim. Just the _idea_ that we should be tied to Downworlders is sickening, but to legalize it means our doom." Valentine was spewing, angry and tempered.

Her mother smiled kindly up at him and Eliza's heart stung. "Enough politics, Valentine. Please?" She turned cautiously in his grasp, tangling her arms around his neck. Jocelyn's expression was pure adoration. She noticed the same on Valentine's face, but there was something worse, something darker in his eyes.

The image dissolved into something else.

A circle of tall trees, Valentine kneeling in the middle of them. The full moon in the sky lit the area. A dark pentagram had been chalked into the grass. In the center of the pentagram, she saw a woman with long black hair that shone. Skin as white as snow. The woman was beautiful.

The woman extended her hand to him and she released her fist, showing a deep cut on her hand. The blood trickled down into a silver chalice that rested at the edge of the pentagram. She wished the image would go away. She didn't want to see it anymore. She didn't want to see any of it.

"I promise you," the woman spoke with an alluring tone, "the child that is born with my blood will surmount with power. Stronger than the Greater Demons of the worlds between the worlds. More powerful than the Asmodei. Mightier than any demon." The woman's blood seemed black in the chalice. Maybe it was black. "With the proper training and guidance, the child will be unstoppable. I must warn you, though." Her voice dropped into a low tone. "This is poison. The blood will turn the humanity in the child to ash."

She wanted _out!_ She didn't know how much more she could take.

Valentine nodded once. "I give you all my thanks, my Lady of Edom." Valentine leaned down and carefully picked up the chalice. He held it with both hands.

For the first time, the woman lifted her face to the light. Rather than eyes, slithering black curls protruded from her sockets.

It vanished, shifting into something else.

Jocelyn stood in a room, her face written with distress. She was slim, her stomach no longer bulging out. She was talking hurriedly to someone that Eliza couldn't see. "Ragnor, I can't do it anymore. I can't stay in that house with him." Her voice was panicked. "I found one of his books and went through it. The things he did to our children, my children! I knew how horrible he was, but I never thought he was capable of this." The man- Ragnor- asked what she meant. "He used _demon blood_ on the children. They're not…I don't think they're human anymore. Monsters, he turned them into monsters."

Before she could hear anything else, it changed again. Eliza felt light-headed. Dizzy. Nauseous. She wanted out of whatever lucid dream she was trapped in. No, not a dream. A nightmare.

She saw Valentine pacing angrily through in a room, his steps measured over a circle of Marks. He grasped a seraph blade in his hand, his knuckles white. He turned his head furiously. "Speak!" He shouted. "Give me what I want!" He roared out viciously.

He raised the knife and brought it down, stabbing it into something. She saw the same angel that was chained to the wall. A golden liquid spilled out from the wound. She felt the pain raging in the same spot on her body, burning into her.

"Your blood will do me more good than any answer you could give me anyway." Valentine hissed.

The scene shifted again.

They were in the library of Wayland Manor. Streams of golden sunlight paned through the colored windows. She could hear voices and light music coming from another room. She saw Jocelyn on the floor near one of the bookshelves. She was looking around the room furtively, green eyes wild. She drew a book from her pocket and slipped it onto the shelf among the other books.

Once again, the image changed.

She was seeing the cellar again. The pentagram was still on the floor, its appearance seeming fresher than she remembered. The same angel was huddled inside. Valentine stood outside of the pentagram, staring down at the angel with contempt. She knew the look all too well. He appeared older than he had in the other visions. He twisted a seraph blade in his hands, the same way she knew that she did.

"Oh, Ithuriel." He sighed heavily. "The two of us, we've grown close over the years. When I found you, trapped in those ruins, I could have left you there to continue rotting, but I didn't. I brought you here. I've taken care of you. Now, you must tell me what I need to know." He drew closer to the angel, the angel blade gleaming in his hand. There was a worn and tired look on her father's face. "I summoned you with the hope that you would give me the answers I so desire, old friend. I need to know why the Nephilim were designed. Why Raziel sought to create us. Yet, he brought us forth without the strength of Downworlders, without their powers. The Moon Children have their speed, the Night Children have their endurance, the magic of Lilith's Children, and the eternal life of the Fair Folk. We are powerless except for the Marks he gave us to burn on our skin." As he spoke, his words became thicker, his voice more fanatic. He spoke like a madman. "What about this seems fair to you, Ithuriel? How could we not be as strong as them, when we are better than them?"

Throughout it all, the angel never spoke. He never moved. He sat before Valentine, statuesque and beautiful. His wings were folded around him like a shield. She saw the inexplicable sorrow in the angel's eyes.

She watched her father's face grow cold in expression. "If you must be that way, then so be it." He snarled. "I shall ask him myself. My time grows near, old friend. I possess the Angel's Cup and soon enough, I will also have the Sword. Yet, I still lack the Mirror. We both know that I cannot summon him without the Mirror. I need all three of the Mortal Instruments in my possession." He sounded crazy. His words were rushed and frantic. "Grant me the knowledge of the Mirror's location and I will grant you the gift of death."

It shattered. The scene broke apart into several pieces. Darkness tinged her vision. Familiar images fluttered past her. Jace and Jonathan, Valentine behind them, his hands on their shoulders. The moonflowers from the greenhouse back at the Institute. The cottage. A Malachi Configuration. Her bones grew cold as the images went by quicker and quicker. Her sword, joined by the others, _Heosphoros_ and _Phaesphoros_. Black blood spilling from a chalice.

 _A child of Hell. Of the realm of Edom itself._

She knew it was the voice of the angel, of Ithuriel.

In a room, she saw two small children. A boy and a girl, maybe around a year old. Both had the same pale white hair. They both looked up at the same time, seeming to stare right at her. Both had the same dark eyes, dark enough to be black.

She felt like she was falling through the air.

Eliza crumpled to the floor, landing hard on her knees. She struggled for breaths she couldn't quite get to, her chest heaving.

"Liz." Jace's voice was urgent, echoing and blurry.

She held her hands out. "Don't. Don't come near me." She hissed at him.

He took a step back, panic in his eyes. Worry was written over his face. It passed quickly and he turned to Clary.

Eliza couldn't look at them. She didn't know how. Instead, she trained her eyes on her hands. She stared down at the blue-green veins. It was _true_. She had hoped and hoped that it wasn't true. But it was. The angel had confirmed everything.

Well, almost everything.

She had been wrong about one thing. It wasn't Lucifer's blood running through her veins. She didn't know who's it was, but it didn't belong to the Prince of Hell who had given blood for her sword. A woman, the Lady of Edom, had also been generous.

 _Monster._

Her own mother had said it about her. She had seen Jocelyn tell Ragnor Fell that she and Jonathan were monsters. Created at the hand of Valentine.

She squinted her eyes shut and when they opened, she felt the warmth of tears. She scrambled to her feet, Jace and Clary looking back at her. She looked behind them, tears blurring her vision. But she saw the angel clearly.

Ithuriel had told her himself. _A child of Edom_. Just as the Seelie Queen had said.

Without a word, she sprinted from the room. Her feet pounded against the stairs as she ran up them. She burst back into the manor library. She fell against one of the shelves, panting heavily.

 _Monster. Monster. Monster._

She saw herself as a child, her eyes black. Jonathan's black eyes. Her father's black eyes. He had made them into monsters. Deliberately demonized his own children.

Beneath her, the floor shook. An earthquake? Could the day _get_ any worse?

She pushed off the wall, peering down into the passageway. Jace and Clary were running up it. She saw the stairs beneath them wavering and buckling, folding away. Smoke rose up from the cellar.

She grabbed them both and yanked them from the stairway just as the stairs fell away.

The shelves of books began to shake, books falling down to the floor. They needed to leave, and fast.

Jace picked up a chair, shaking it deftly in his hands. He threw it at the window. She covered her face as glass rained out around them. "Go!" He shouted at her.

He pulled Clary out of the way just in time as a shelf fell from the wall and collided into the floor.

Eliza peered out of the window. It wasn't a short way down, but it wasn't as high as jumping off the roof of the Institute. Without a second thought, she jumped.

Her feet landed unsurely on the grass and she stumbled forward. She fell. She tumbled down the grassy knoll until she reached the end. She sat up, just in time to see Clary rolling down the hill, Jace behind her.

The manor was imploding on itself.

"Get _down!_ " Jace shouted. He covered Clary with his own body.

Eliza sat. She stared up at Wayland Manor, watching it, eyes wide with curiosity. As it exploded, it sent a roaring noise and a column of fire and ash into the sky.

Around them, debris began to fall like rain.

* * *

She looked over at Jace and Clary. "What the _hell_ did the two of you do?" She breathed.

Jace looked at her. She couldn't read the expression on his face, but she definitely saw traces of anger. "Ithuriel. I gave him my seraph blade and he killed himself. The manor was tied to him so when he died…"

"The manor died too."

Clary sat up, wiping the soot off of her face. "Oh, crap. Jace, I think I dropped your stele somewhere…" He told her it didn't matter. They had gotten out alive.

Eliza got to her feet. She shook the debris and grass from her hair. "I have to go." She said abruptly.

Clary frowned. "Where? We need to give the book to Magnus so we can wake Mom up."

She couldn't suppress the snarled look on her face. The same woman who had called her a monster.

"No, Clary. _You_ have to. You and Jace. I can't be anywhere near you. I have to get as far from you as possible."

Clary stood up. "Liz, what's the matter?"

Liz. Clary had never called her that before. Her heart panged. "You know." She said tightly. "You saw. We all saw. Ithuriel confirmed everything that I thought was true."

Clary nodded unsurely. "Yes, I saw."

Eliza ran her hands through her hair. "I'm not- I can't be around you. I'll hurt you. I'm a _monster_." The word felt unclean in her mouth, rolling from her tongue like poison. When Jace stood, he took a step close to her and she took several steps back. "Don't." She held her hands out. "Stay back."

His eyes softened. "Liz, we're the same." He told her. "We're both…We both have it in us. The demon blood. He did it to both of us."

She shook her head. He was wrong. The lie was getting worse. The web she had weaved was becoming too entangled. "We are _not_ the same!" She shouted at him. Her face grew hot with anger, her eyes fading darker and darker. "We have never been the same." The words were there, stuck in her throat, ready to say.

But she couldn't. If she spoke the truth, it was as good as killing someone. Clary, Alec, Izzy, anyone.

"Guys, it's not that big of a deal." Clary said softly. "Warlocks have demon blood too. Magnus, Liz. Magnus is good. He isn't a monster."

Magnus. Good and kind Magnus. Eccentric and bold.

"It's different, Clary. You heard what that demon woman said." Eliza said. "It's not any regular old demon blood. It's that from a Greater Demon. The kind of blood that burns away the humanity until nothing is left."

Clary insisted that it didn't make sense. "You're both good. You have humanity, I've seen it. I know it."

Eliza felt her shoulders slump down. "She's right, Clary. What we saw explains everything. It makes everything clear." Jace spoke.

"You mean, it explains how amazing the two of you are?" Clary asked. "How you're the best Shadowhunters and how you're truthful and good and loyal to the core? How you're exactly everything that demons can't be?"

"Truthful?" Eliza laughed mirthlessly. "That isn't a word I would use to describe myself, little sister. Every friendship I have is built on a lie that I created. Built on a person I've pretended to be. Hell, even my relationship is built on a lie."

Words she hadn't meant to say. Dangerous words. Deadly, maybe.

She heard Jace suck in a breath. "No, it explains why I feel the way I do." He said in a quiet voice.

Her head snapped in his direction. He was staring at her, his eyes dark. She shook her head, silently begging him to not say anything. Not in front of Clary, the girl who thought he was their brother.

"I don't know what that means." Clary told him.

Eliza wanted to punch him. Wrap her hands around his neck and choke him until he passed out. _Don't_ , she mouthed. _Keep your mouth shut._

"I mean, it explains how I feel for my twin sister. Why I feel a way no brother should feel about his sister." She inhaled sharply. He was dooming them both. "It explains why, when I see Eliza with Declan, I don't feel protective. I feel jealous." His laugh was hollow, empty and void of anything at all. "I see him and wish it were me."

She looked away quickly. She didn't want to see the look of whatever disgust Clary had on her face. "What about Aline?" She heard Clary whisper.

She kept herself from looking at Jace, no matter how badly she wanted to.

"I figured that, I should at least try. I mean, Liz has Declan. But-But I realized I didn't want anyone else. I don't think I ever will."

Her heart felt like it was being pulled apart. She didn't want to, but she did. She found herself looking at Jace. " _Jace_." She breathed lightly.

Clary made an uncomfortable noise. "I'll uh, yeah." Eliza saw her scurry away swiftly. She watched her sit down on the grass, staring up at the sky.

When Eliza looked back at Jace, he had drawn close to her. Their noses were almost touching. He reached out, his thumb tracing down her cheek. "Tell me not to." He murmured. "You have to tell me not to." His eyes were hazy, slanted and deep.

Her tongue swept over her bottom lip slowly. "I can't." She admitted to him. "And I don't want to."

His breath hitched. His hand cupped her jaw. When he pulled her closer, his lips brushed against her cheek. She closed her eyes. "Lizzie." His mouth had moved to her temple. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. "Are you sure?" His mouth brushed against her own.

She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down. His hand moved to hold the back of her neck. He was gentle against her. She put both her hands on his neck, trying to pull him closer. Some low noise escaped his mouth and his hands traveled down to grip her hips. They were as close as two people could get.

She pulled his jacket off, letting it fall to the grass. In the mess of it, his shirt was discarded. His skin was hot against her hands. She could feel the hard muscle under soft skin, puckered scars decorating his body.

He worked quickly, his hands deft as he took the sword strap from around her torso and pushed down her jacket. Even more so, she could feel the heat of his hands against her.

As he dipped back down to kiss her again, something cold bumped against her chest. She jolted back slightly. "What's wrong?" He asked her. His hands stilled on her hips.

He was wearing a necklace, she realized. A small circle hung from the chain. A ring. It had a pattern of stars etched on the silver metal.

 _Oh, Jace_ , she sighed to herself.

The Morgenstern family ring. Her father had worn it and when he had faked his death as Michael Wayland, he had passed it along to Jace.

"I forgot I was wearing this." Jace looked down at it and then back at her.

He reached back to touch her face, but she ducked her face away. "Wait." She said.

He frowned. "Do you want me to take it off?" He asked.

She shook her head. She could see Clary, a few yards away. Possibly oblivious as to what they were doing, but Eliza wouldn't entertain the notion. "We can't." She resigned.

He swallowed. "But-."

"I know." She whispered. "But Clary." She spared a look over at her sister. "And we have to get the Book of the White to Magnus. And-."

"And I'm your brother." She looked up at him. "That's it, isn't it?"

She nodded once. "It matters. I know that you think it doesn't, but it does. We can't do this, we'll be hurting everyone we care about, especially ourselves. It wouldn't end well for either of us."

She expected the anger to be evident on his face. Hard lines and sharp eyes. Instead, she was met with a softness only equivalent to pain. "I don't care." She said that he should. It wasn't just something trivial, their choices affected everyone in their lives. "So, does everything else I do." He muttered.

"What do you mean?"

His eyes never left her, a dark tawny color that could be deep as an abyss. Easy to get lost in. "All of those things I said to Clary yesterday, I wasn't talking about her. I was talking about _me_. I'm reckless and I ruin everything I touch. I never think before I act because I can't think of anything but _you_."

Was he…Was he blaming her? "Jace, none of what you've done is on me. I never-."

"Wait. Wait." He shushed her. "I didn't mean it like that. I only meant that now I understand why I'm this way. Why I'm in love with my sister. He made me a monster."

She didn't think that he did. And she couldn't tell him that. With that, came the whole truth and that was too damning to speak aloud to anyone.

"If you're a monster, so am I." She reminded him. As far as he knew, they were twins.

Jace nodded thoughtfully. "But what if you aren't? What if, somehow, it didn't get to you?" She asked what he meant. He was losing her. "Sometimes, if there are two fetuses, one absorbs more nutrients than the other. What if that happened to us and I took in all of the demon blood?"

She scoffed at him. "No. That isn't how it works, I don't believe. Besides, if it did, I think I would be the unluckier of us. I always have been."

Hope for him, none for her. Jace was too good, his own soul was too pure for him to have any sort of demon blood in him. Whatever Valentine had done to him, it didn't involve demon blood. She was sure that if she asked Simon what Jace's blood was like, the young vampire wouldn't say he had choked on it. He wouldn't call it vile or sour like he did her own.

She turned away from him, looking at Clary. Another good soul. She wondered…Valentine had trapped Ithuriel in the cellar for years. He had said that the angel's blood would do him good. If he had used demon blood on Jonathan and Eliza, there was no saying he hadn't done the same to Clary, but with angel blood.

His experiments. His children.

 _Monster_.

 _I'm a monster_ , she told herself. _Created to be evil. Born to be the devil. He said so himself, in the journal. Made to fight a war. A soldier. He called you nasty and isn't that what you are? Don't you remember all of those moments, killing demons and relishing in the torture. Wondering where the darkness came from and wondering why it felt so_ good _? Now you know why._

"Lizzie? Are you all right?"

When she looked back at him, her eyes were black. He took a small step back, his eyes wide. "Stay away from me, Jace." She told him. Surprisingly, she spoke evenly. She sounded more sure of herself than she felt. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away."

Jace snatched his shirt from the ground and put it back on. He shrugged his jacket on, a foul look on his face.

She called Clary back over. It took her sister a few moments to make the walk, in which time Eliza put her own jacket back on. She adjusted her sword onto her back.

"Everything okay?" Clary asked, looking between the two of them.

"Fine." Eliza snapped. "The book I gave you. Give it back." She held out her hand. Clary fished in her pocket and took the small leather-bound journal out. Gently, she placed it in Eliza's palm. She snatched the book from her. "Get the book to Magnus. Save your mom." She told her.

Clary frowned. "Wait, are you not going back with us?"

Eliza said no sharply. Clary asked why not. Eliza stifled a groan. "I don't want to. Tell Magnus…Tell him I said I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? For not going with us to give him the book?"

She ground her teeth together. "No. For not being the person he thought I was." She held the journal tightly in her hands, her knuckles white.

Before either of them could say anything else, she was walking away from them.

"Liz, you're the only one with a stele." Jace called out. "Without you, Clary can't make a Portal to get us back."

She looked over her shoulder. She half-considered leaving her stele behind for them to use but decided against it. "That doesn't seem like my problem." She replied.

She saw his shoulders slump over with defeat and she looked straight ahead once again.

* * *

At first, she wasn't sure where she was going. It was dark and the witchlight stone didn't provide a ton of light. It was a series of turns and twists and nearly broken ankles.

Once she came upon the cottage, she chastised herself. On second thought, it was the perfect place. No one knew where it was. Not Jace or Clary, not Alec or Isabelle. The only people who knew were Jonathan, her father, and Magnus. And by the time Magnus came for her, it would be too late.

She pushed the door open and then closed it quietly. She didn't want the chance for someone to hear her.

It was the same as she remembered. The door opened to the living room, which faded into the small kitchen. There was a little dining table, big enough for four people. Down the hall, there were two bedrooms and a bathroom. There was also the door that led into the basement.

She tossed her sword and jacket onto the musty couch. Small clouds of dust wafted into the air and she coughed. She made her way down the hall to the first bedroom. Two beds, not a lot of room.

Jonathan had always slept on the left side.

She closed the door gently and went to the next bedroom. This one was bigger, the master bedroom. It had been Marisol's before they arrived. Valentine had resigned her to sleeping on the couch. For however loyal she had been to him, Eliza didn't think she deserved to sleep on a couch for so many years.

She didn't like thinking of Marisol Hardtower. She had been a nice woman, for whatever it was worth. A woman of few words, really. She still remembered what Marisol's body had looked like after Valentine killed her. Peaceful, save for the bloody slash on her neck. He had said it would be a good, clean death for his most loyal follower. But all the blood on the floor didn't seem very clean.

She realized he meant not much effort put into it. That was the day she learned how little it took to slash someone's throat.

He'd killed Marisol after faking his death as Michael Wayland. There was no longer the need to go to stay with Jace for long periods of time. Marisol's usefulness as a live-in babysitter and cover story was gone. And so, apparently, was her need to live.

Valentine's room was dusty, but still well-kept as it always had been. He liked things neat and orderly. All of his ducks in a perfect row. She entered the room, leaving the door open. She searched through the drawers, pulling anything and everything from them. She lifted the mattress but found nothing. She looked under the bed and in the closet.

She didn't know what she was looking for, but she would know it whenever she saw it.

"Basement." She told herself.

She stepped carelessly over the mess she had made and left the room. The door to the basement was across from the bathroom. She threw it open, peering down into the darkness below. She held her witchlight stone up and started down the stairs.

It was no winding staircase like the one in Wayland Manor. This descent took only a few moments.

The basement, much like the rest of the cottage, looked the same. Hard concrete flooring and stone walls. Across the room was the door. The door that she and Jonathan had never been allowed to open.

She made across the room swiftly and tried the door. Locked. She made a gruff noise and took out her stele. A hastily drawn Opening rune unlocked the door and it swung open.

The room was small, unusually small even for the cottage. Just enough space for a small desk, littered with journals. She sat down, jerking the drawers open. Pens and pencils rattled. Nothing of importance.

Just as she was closing the drawer, she spotted it. A photograph, old and worn. Not something that anyone would find important. She picked it up, staring down at it.

A family photo, something sentimental. Not a word she would use for her father.

He was in the photographer, but he was a young man. Handsome and sharp. A broad smile on his face. Next to him stood a beautiful young woman with fierce red curls pulled back from her face. She wore a kind and funnily made smile.

 _Mother_ , Eliza recognized her. Jocelyn.

She seemed softer in the photo than she had when Eliza first met her. She supposed that running away and believing your children were dead did that to a woman.

 _No, she thought you were a monster. She didn't care._

She instantly recognized the two small children in the photograph. Around the same age as in the vision from Ithuriel. The boy's hair was long, almost close to covering his eyes. Even for a child, his features were sharp and defining. There was still that infant roundness to his cheeks.

Her fingers traced over the figure of the small girl. Herself. Hair down to her shoulders in waves, the ghost of a smile on a chubby face. Held in the arms of their father, Jonathan in the arms of their mother.

She folded the photograph up and stuck it in the pocket of her pants.

Outside, she heard screams. She kicked back from the desk and ran through the basement, up the stairs.

Out of the window above the kitchen sink, she saw horror. Black smoke, high flames of fire surrounding the demon towers. The protective spires, she realized, no longer seemed to shimmer. Instead, she saw that they were a deadly white color.

Surely not….

Alicante was burning.

She raced back down the stairs and searched the basement.

 _Weapons, weapons._

They lined the walls. Knives, throwing stars, spears, staffs, Valentine had possessed it all. She had two knives already on her but decided that a few more wouldn't hurt. She took four small throwing knives from the wall and tucked them into her belt. She grabbed two seraph blades and made quick work of Marking them and naming them, sliding them onto a loop on her belt.

She ran back up the stairs and pulled her jacket on, throwing her sword over her back. With one last look, she ran out of the cottage.

* * *

People screamed and ran into the streets. With heaviness, she realized that these people were helpless. All of the adults were up at the Gard. They had left the children, the sick, and the elderly without protection. Which, in their defense, they couldn't have guessed that demons would ransack the city.

It was impossible. Until it was no longer.

The streets, she saw, were already starting to be littered with a few lifeless bodies. She saw a large shape headed for a group of small children. She saw that the demon was tall, grey and scaly with an elongated body. It looked almost human, except she could feel that it wasn't. Except for hands, it had eels on the ends of its arms.

"Get back!" She shouted at the kids. She saw them scramble back.

The Vetis demon turned its attention to her. Its ruby eyes glowered and she saw the point-sharp teeth in its mouth. She took out one of the seraph blades and it sprung to life, glowing brightly in the darkness. With her other hand, she grabbed her sword from her back. "You picked the wrong night to burn the city down. I'm in a bad mood." She smirked at the demon.

It charged toward her, whipping its serpentine arms wildly. She ducked down and jabbed her seraph blade out. It stuck into the demon's leg and she heard it howl out. She stood, looking back at the demon.

"Shadowhunter." It hissed.

She huffed a breath. She looked over at the group of kids. "Run!" She told them. "Get out of the city!" The demon took the chance and knocked her to the ground. Her head hit the cobblestone and her vision blurred. She struggled to properly grip her weapons and wriggled under the demon.

A whip cracked. She saw something luminescent wrap around the demon's throat and it was yanked off of her.

She scrambled to her feet. Isabelle Lightwood was standing over the demon, her electrum whip wrapped around its neck tightly. Eliza gave her a grateful smile before plunging her sword into the demon's chest.

It burned, sizzling as it fell to ash at their feet. Izzy's whip hung limply at her side. Izzy enveloped her in a tight hug.

"Where are Jace and Clary?" She asked her.

"They aren't with you?" Eliza asked, pulling away. The worry in her eyes said no. "Where's Alec?"

"We were attacked at the Penhallows. Aline got pulled out the window and I went after her. Alec took Max and ran. I haven't seen them since."

Her heart was thumping hard in her chest. Clary would be safe, so long as she was with Jace. He was good, almost better than her. He could protect the both of them. Alec was strong, he could protect Max.

"Iz, where is Sebastian?" She asked lowly.

Her mouth twitched. "Um, I'm not sure…? Why? Is something wrong?"

She wanted to double over. She wanted to scream. She had been so stupid. Actually believing he was just keeping an eye on her. That his threats of harm were hollow until she stepped out of line.

She had already stepped out of line, the second they had realized she betrayed them after being sent to New York. There was no going back.

"No." She lied, looking Izzy in the eye. She gave her the most assuring smile she could muster up. "We'll be fine. Look, Iz, we've got to split up." Izzy protested immediately. She said they'd be safer together. How wrong she was. "There's something I have to do and it's better if I do it alone. You might get hurt and I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you."

She drew Isabelle close, hugging her. "Find your family, Iz. Find Jace and Clary and get out of the city."

"Liz-."

"There's a cottage just about a mile outside the city. There's a big willow tree, you'll know it when you see it. Stay there, send a fire message to Magnus, he'll help you."

Izzy's brown eyes were wrought with confusion. "What about you? Where are you going to go?" Eliza assured that she would be fine. They stared at each other, chaos swarming around them. "Your eyes…they used to be green." Izzy murmured. "They're black. Are you sure you're okay?"

Eliza smiled at her, pushing away from their hug. "Yeah. I'm just…I'm becoming who I'm meant to be."

She turned, running off.

* * *

She stepped over dead bodies with a delicacy in her step that was unneeded. Fallen Nephilim, too weak to fight against the hordes of demons her father had sent to slaughter them.

Her sword and seraph blade were slick with ichor, the thick black liquid coating the blades. In her wake she left the discarded ashes of demons. She took down as many as she could, saving as many lives as she could.

 _If you were a monster, would you do that? Save your fellow Shadowhunters? No, you'd leave them to die._

She told herself that she wasn't going out of her way to save them. She was going out of her way to kill demons.

She felt _good_. She recognized the cruel darkness, having felt it so many times before. Adrenaline pumped in her blood. Her vision tinged red.

An Oni demon came from nowhere. Its spade hands were extended towards her, wide mouth gaping open. As it raced toward her, she didn't bother to sidestep. She extended her sword arm, striking the Oni right in the chest. Ichor spattered onto her clothes and a little burned on her throat.

She yanked the sword out and switched, shoving her seraph blade in its place. The demon began to crumple around the blade and she pulled it out. She didn't bother watching, walking away as the Oni fell to dust behind her.

She rounded the corner to another street, smacking into someone. She gave a little scream, jumping backwards.

"Liz! Thank God." The person breathed.

She made him out in the darkness. Alec. She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him. "Wait. Where are Izzy and Max?" She asked, looking behind him.

She drew away. Alec was alone. "I left them at the Penhallows with Sebastian. I came to find Aline. What are you doing out here alone? Where are Jace and Clary?"

She knew that Jace was at least still alive. Alec would know if Jace were dead. He would feel it. And if Jace was okay, that meant Clary had to be okay too.

"I'm not sure." She told him. His words registered. "Hold on. Izzy and Max are back at the house. Alone with Sebastian?"

He frowned. "Yeah. He's boarding up the house."

Shit.

"Look, Liz, go back to the house. Get inside. I'll find Jace and Clary." He told her.

She nodded numbly. She would do exactly that. She put her hand on Alec's cheek. "I told Izzy about a safe place. The cottage I used to live in. After you find Aline, Jace, and Clary, come to the house and get Izzy and Max. Take them there. Get a message to Magnus. I told Izzy about it all but…"

"Liz." Alec stopped her. "What's going on? Do you know something?"

"Yes." She blurted. His blue eyes widened. Damn it. No going back. "My father. Valentine. I think it's Valentine." She said in a hurried voice. "That's why you have to get out of the city."

"What about you?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Please, Alec. Promise me that you'll keep them safe."

"Okay. I promise. Just go back to the house, okay?"

She whispered that she would.

Alec hugged her once more before running off into the darkness. She ran down the streets, weaving in and out of darkness until she got to Princewater canal.

She spied the Penhallow house just a few yards away.

She stopped at the front door, suddenly afraid of whatever was on the other side. She swallowed and kicked the door open. The hinges screeched as the door went in. She stepped into the darkness of the house.

Unfinished warding runes were on the walls, wooden boards over the windows.

"Izzy? Max?" She called out. "It's Eliza." Only silence answered. "Sebastian?" Gratefully, nothing.

But if he wasn't there, where were Isabelle and Max?

Broken glass was strewn over the floor and she looked to the living room. It was empty. She made her way to the kitchen. Small specks of blood were spattered on the wall and her heart clenched.

She looked down.

Izzy was lying on the floor, unconscious. A hammer was on the floor near her, blood on the head of it.

"Damn it." Eliza hissed. She dropped to her knees and took out her stele. She found the place where past Healing runes had been made and quickly carved one over it. She put her free hand over the injury on the back of Izzy's head and waited. She began to feel the wound closing up, the blood flow ebbing away. "You'll live. I have to go."

Izzy's blood was on her hand, dark and sticky. Where the hell was her brother?


	28. Chapter 28

Her mind was racing. She couldn't think straight. She had to stop him. She knew he had helped their father into the city. Whatever he had done, he had blood on his hands.

 _Little dove, are you all right? You didn't come back to the Accords Hall with your brother and sister?_

Magnus' voice made her skid to a stop. She took several deep breaths.

 _You've seen them? Are they okay? Are you with them still?_

If they were with Magnus, they were okay. She could, with a clean conscious, go after Jonathan.

 _No. They went to the Gard to rescue Simon. Where are you?_

Simon! How could she have forgotten Simon? Of course they would have left him behind in the Gard. He was just a Downworlder to them.

 _Just left the Penhallows. Send someone there immediately to get Isabelle and to find Max. She was unconscious on the floor._

For a second, there was an eerie silence in her head. It felt like Magnus had retreated, left her alone.

 _Are you saying that Maryse and Robert Lightwood weren't there?_

Why would they be there? _No. I only saw Izzy. I couldn't find Max. What is it?_

She was met again with the silence, but she could feel Magnus' growing concern.

 _The Sebastian boy told Jace and Alexander that Maryse and Robert were at the house and bringing the others to the Hall._

She was steaming. There was no doubt in her mind then that Jonathan had whacked Izzy over the head with a hammer. Hopefully, Max had found a place to hide and Jonathan didn't bother himself with looking for him.

 _Where did Sebastian go, Magnus? I need to find him._

He took too long to reply for her liking. She continued walking at a fast pace, her eyes darting around.

 _He went after Clary, Jace, and Alec. To the Gard._

She shut her mind off. She took off running, going as fast as her legs would allow her to. Her sword clambered against her back as she ran, seraph blades knocking against her thighs. In the light of the fire at the Gard, she saw something.

Figures standing at the top of the hill, the same hill where she knew Simon's cell was around. She ran up the gravel path that had been cleared through the trees. Witchlight torches flickered light, half-illuminating the path.

She pushed herself. Her legs ached but she pressed on. As she grew nearer, she counted six figures. One figure was heaped on the ground, her stomach churned.

She could see the red of Clary's hair, Jace's golden halo of curls. Alec was near him, Simon just a little off in the distance. Across from them, Jonathan stood. Who was on the ground, then?

Under her foot, a branch snapped. All of them turned to look back in her direction. She ducked behind a tree, her chest heaving.

"You don't know what you're talking about." She heard Jace snarl.

She peered around the edge of the tree. She recognized the angry look on his face. "Are you sure you aren't just upset that I've made connections with both of your sisters?" Jonathan asked. "I kissed Clary, yesterday. I could tell how much she wanted me. And then I went on that long walk with Eliza. I could tell you all of the things I did to her while we were gone." Nausea rolled in her stomach. "How I touched her. _Where_ I touched her. She was practically begging for it." He laughed.

"Do not talk about my sisters like that." Jace warned him.

She looked down at the ground, careful to avoid making any noise as she drew closer.

"Sisters? Interesting." Jonathan mused. "That isn't how you act. Everyone notices the way you act with Eliza. The two of you think that you've concealed your feelings, but you haven't. And I'll tell you, it's disgusting. The way the two of you are, it's unnatural."

"Stop." Jace growled.

"Why are you saying all of these things, Sebastian?" She heard Clary ask him.

Her head lifted. Alec was staring right at her. She shook her head, lifting her finger to her lip, _don't_. He swallowed, looking away from her.

"I've sat back these few days and said nothing." Sebastian told her sharply. "Do you know how hard it's been to pretend to actually like the lot of you? You make me sick, each and every one of you. Jace, I don't know what's worse. Watching you stare at your sister and mentally undress her or listening to you complain about how your father didn't love you enough. I don't know how we can blame him. And you," Jonathan turned towards Clary, "you gave the Book of the White to that disgusting Downworlder. You dumb bitch, your siblings were right, you don't think before acting at all." Sebastian stared Alec down. "God, and you." He sneered at Alec. "Everyone here knows exactly what's wrong with you. You disgust me. You should be exiled, stripped of your Marks. Oh, let's not forget that other sister of yours." He looked back at Jace.

She saw him lock his jaw tightly. His hands were balled into fists at his sides.

"What about me?" She asked, only a few feet away from them.

Jace's head jerked up and his eyes met hers. She saw Clary give a sigh of relief. But she focused her attention on the boy in front of her. "Eliza." Jonathan tried to smile.

"What were you about to say?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. "Tell me. I want to know."

His poor attempt at a smile faltered and was replaced with a terrible, twisted sneer. "You're a failure. A traitor. Good for nothing, a waste of time and energy. You betrayed your father, his mission, _your_ mission. You're a disgrace to the Morgenstern name. You deserve whatever punishment deemed fit."

This time, she was the one who smiled. "Right." She licked her bottom lip, nodding slowly. "Now, remind me. Who will be doing the punishment? You or him?"

Clary spoke before he could answer her. "Why would you have to pretend to like us?" She asked him. He looked back at her, contempt drawn across his features. "Are you a spy? For Valentine?"

Jonathan smiled, horrible and wretched. His eyes were narrowed. "I was wondering how long it would take you to piece it together. There are completely dark dimensions of demons that exist and they are brighter than the lot of you."

"Well, at least we're all alive." Jace told him.

Jonathan blinked. "I am alive." He pointed out.

She enjoyed the prideful smirk on Jace's face. "Not for much longer." He took off for Jonathan.

Jace was fast, but Jonathan, as she had expected, was faster. He grabbed Jace's arm that held the knife and Jace dropped it. Jonathan was grabbing him by the back of the jacket, holding him tightly.

And then he threw him through the air. Jace smacked against the Gard wall and fell to the ground. Clary shouted his name.

Jonathan turned on Eliza. "There is not a single doubt in my mind that you helped give the Book of the White to that nasty half-breed warlock. Am I right?"

"Naturally." She told him. "I'm really good at disgracing the Morgenstern name, remember?" He lunged at her and she didn't move away. She reared her hand back and punched him in the jaw. It didn't knock him down as she had hoped.

He regained himself in record time and hit her. Pain flared on her cheek. "I told you that I would kill you one day. I guess that day is today." He hissed.

"You can try." She growled. He hit her again, his fist connecting with her mouth. Blood welled. He pushed her down to the ground, sitting on top of her. His hands wrapped around her throat, pushing down.

She gasped, trying to find a breath she couldn't reach. Her hands shoved against him, trying to push him off. He grinned down at her. His dark eyes were bright. "Your eyes."

Her hand felt against the silver brace on her opposite wrist and she snatched the knife from the brace. She brought it home, shoving it into his shoulder.

He howled out and she kicked him off her. She ran towards Clary and Alec. "You bitch!" He shouted at her. "I'll kill you!" He yanked the knife from his arm and threw it on the ground.

She heaved for breath, her hands covering her throat. "I've heard that before." Clary took off running at him, her arms outstretched. "Clary!" Eliza shouted.

Jonathan sidestepped and hit her, careless as if he had just swatted away an annoying fly. His hand connected at her head and she fell to the ground.

Alec had his bow out, an arrow notched. "Sebastian, don't move." He called out. "Put your hands behind your back. Now."

Her brother laughed. "Alexander, you won't shoot me. You don't have it in you."

Eliza swallowed. Alec loosed the arrow. She heard the whistle as it sailed towards Jonathan. Somehow, he ducked. The arrow lodged itself in a tree.

Jonathan lunged at Alec, knocking him to the ground. He broke the bow into pieces and tossed it aside like a broken toy. When Alec got to his feet, he had drawn a seraph blade. Alec ran for Jonathan and he stepped aside, grabbing Alec by the throat.

"I've already killed one Lightwood today. How lucky I feel to kill another." He told Alec. Her heart sank.

Something came from the shadows and knocked him aside. Alec fell down, grasping at his throat.

Simon had latched onto Jonathan, his arms curled around his throat. In the moonlight, his fangs glittered. He bit down onto Jonathan's arm and she heard her brother scream out. Jonathan flung himself onto the ground. The two of them wrestled on the ground.

Jonathan would kill him.

He got to his feet, slamming his foot into Simon's ribcage twice. "Bloodsucker." He brought his foot back to kick again.

"That isn't a good idea." Jace's voice was quiet, but it wasn't safe. Jace had gotten up. Blood covered his face and one of his eyes was practically swollen shut. He had a named seraph blade in his hand. "I've never killed someone with one of these before. I'm glad you'll be the first."

He couldn't kill him. She had to kill him. She wouldn't let Jace have that blood on his hands. The guilt would tear him apart.

Jonathan looked between she and Jace, a dark and twisted look on his face. Eliza took her sword off her back, twirling it in her grasp. "I promised you." She told him, taking a step toward him. "I swore that if you touched my sister or hurt anyone I loved, I would kill you."

She stood there, her cursed sword in her hand. Blood on her face and hands. Ichor stained her clothes and her short-sword. Her hair matted to her face in sweat. In that moment, her eyes were void. Pits of black that only held rage and cruelty.

And she felt _good._

She took another step. And he took off running into the trees. Her shoulders relaxed. "Coward." She muttered, sheathing her sword. Whatever darkness had overtaken her, it was taking its toll.

She sprinted over to Clary, putting her hands on either side of her sister's face. "Hey. Look at me. Don't close your eyes." She instructed her. Jace, Alec, and Simon rushed over. "Give her a Healing rune. Quickly."

Alec handed Jace his stele and Jace's hand worked swiftly in etching the _iratze_ onto Clary's skin. "My head hurts…" Clary mumbled.

Eliza hauled her to her feet. "He gave you a concussion. Son of a bitch."

"We should get her to a Clave doctor. Just to be safe." Jace suggested. She agreed. She handed Clary to Simon and Jace so they could help her walk and keep her on her feet. "What were you thinking, Clary, attacking Sebastian like that? You didn't have any weapons." Jace asked.

Sebastian. That wasn't his name. It was Jonathan. She glanced at the trees. There was no assuredness that he had actually run away. He could have been in the trees, watching them. Waiting for her to slip up in a false sense of security.

"Jace, he threw you around like you were just a tennis ball or something." Alec reminded him. "I've only ever seen one person fight you like that and it was Liz." He glanced at Eliza, a sympathetic look on his face.

She bit down on her bottom lip. "He's had special training or something." Jace said.

Simon seemed to agree with him. They had no idea. "He's really strong. How long do you guys think he was watching us?" He looked at Eliza. "How long were you standing there?"

"Only a few moments." She told him. "I figured a surprise attack on him would be my best bet but then he started saying all of those hateful things."

Simon nodded, his face drawn together.

"Hopefully, the Clave will catch him and put the same curse on him that they did Hodge. It'll serve him right." Jace said thickly.

"What?" Eliza asked. "What does Hodge have to do with any of this?"

Jace swallowed before looking at her. "Liz, that body…that's Hodge. Sebastian killed him."

Anger flared inside of her. Simon spat onto the ground, wiping his mouth. "Well, I know for one thing: Sebastian does not taste good. His blood is like disgusting, like poison or something."

She almost stopped walking. She played it off as adjusting her boot.

She turned, looking back at the discarded body. Hodge. Jace walked by her and placed his jacket over their old tutor's face. "Someone will come for him." He promised her. "We need to get back to the Hall."

She nodded, turning away from Hodge. They walked down the hill towards the city. Jace limped slightly, but said nothing of the pain.

The walk down the gravel path was quiet. They kept weapons out, but no demons ever came for them.

"Do you really think that being Valentine's son makes you a monster?" She heard Alec ask Jace. They were walking ahead of everyone else, their heads ducked down in quiet conversation. "It isn't your fault, whatever he did to you."

Jace's shoulders tensed. "Alec, I don't want to talk about this. Not now, not later. Not ever."

The path met the cobblestone of the city. The streets were dark. Far away, she heard voices. But it was still quiet. Too quiet.

"Let's get to the Hall." Jace told them in a hushed voice.

There were no demons huddling in the streets, waiting to attack passersby. She spied a group of people huddled down a street, finishing off a stray demon.

Ahead of them was the Hall of Accords. It was extremely bright in the darkness of the night. Simon helped Clary up the stairs. Inside the Hall, she could hear the hum of many voices speaking at the same time. Clary reached, holding herself against a pillar.

Around her, she heard voices more clearly. The demons had taken off, vanished without a trace. Another voice said it had to be the impending sunrise that had driven them away. She didn't think that was very likely. An assuring voice that insisted the Clave would get the wards back up and they would be safe again. Another voice countering that Valentine would break them, just as he had done.

"Maybe Valentine is right." A voice said. "The Angel has taken back his blessing because we choose to ally ourselves with Downworlders."

Another voice said that the dead were being counted in the Angel's Square.

"I see my family. Come on." Alec said. "What…?" She looked at him and he was gone.

Something crossed Jace's face and he was taking off after Alec. The two of them were shoving through the crowd of people.

She knew what they would find. Who they would find.

"What's happening?" Clary asked.

"Lie down." She told her absently.

She left her with Simon, walking closer to where the Lightwoods stood. To be sure. She had to be sure. Maryse was hugging Isabelle, the girl wracked with sobs. _Alive._ Robert was sitting on the ground, his arms clutching a small body against him.

Her chest burned and she blinked away the tears.

 _Max_.

He looked unbelievably small in his father's arms. Alec was on the ground, holding one of Max's limp hands in his own. Away from them stood Jace. His face was blank.

Eliza slipped through the people wordlessly. She didn't stop moving until she got to his side. He didn't look at her. Without saying anything, because she knew no words would bring any comfort, she wrapped her hand around his. She gave a small squeeze.

He looked over at her, a lost look in his eyes. And then, he just looked away.

* * *

She told the Lightwoods all she could. That was the only solace she could give them. She told them how she had run into Izzy and told her to find her family and take them to a safe place outside the city. She told them about running into Alec and telling him the same thing, how he had told her to go back to the house. In perfect memory, she recounted going into the house, greeted only by darkness. How she had called out for Izzy and Max but no one had answered. How she had found Izzy in the kitchen, unconscious and put a Healing rune on her. She told them about the link she shared with Magnus and how they could communicate without words, without being near each other. How Magnus had said that Sebastian went after the others to the Gard. She told them that she ran off, afraid of what the dangerous boy could do to her siblings and to Alec.

She knew that even if she had stayed behind to look for Max, there would have been no saving him. Jonathan didn't want Isabelle dead or she would have been dead. He always made sure to finish the job.

They turned their anger on the Penhallows for trusting their nephew, bringing a murdered into their house.

She didn't see Magnus. She didn't know where he was and she was too afraid to reach out and ask.

She sat on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, chin resting on them. Amatis had offered to let her stay there, but she knew it would be too crowded. The Lightwoods were being more than kind in continuing to let her stay with them.

They had somehow managed to get an empty house in the city. Several families had packed up and left Idris after the attack.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in." She said dryly.

Clary walked in, clutching something in her hand. It looked like a photograph. "Do you plan on coming out anytime soon?"

She shook her head. "Don't really feel like facing the lion's den yet."

Clary sat down on the bed. "Aline came by Amatis' house. She gave me this." She handed the photo to Eliza. It was a photo of a boy, his mouth spread in laughter. His nose was a little too big and his smile crooked. "Sebastian's aunt in Paris sent these. _This_ is Sebastian Verlac. Which means that we have no clue who that boy is that killed Max. That almost killed all of us."

 _I know_ , she thought dreadfully. _I know and I can't say anything._

"Have you told the Lightwoods?" She asked tiredly.

Clary shook her head. "They're at the Hall. Will you come with me? People listen to you, Liz. You make them listen."

She sighed. "Clary, I make boys listen to me. I can't get a whole room of adult Shadowhunters to do that. They don't trust me. I'm Valentine's daughter. My father just attacked the city with demons and killed a bunch of people. I don't think I'm welcome." Clary said that she'd had nothing to do with the attacks. She looked over at her. "I was unaccounted for. I don't have an alibi for when the wards went down. Everyone believes I had something to do with it."

Clary huffed a breath. "Come on. Get dressed. You're coming with me. I'll go into the lion's den with you."

She hauled Eliza from the bed. She changed from the pajamas Izzy had given her into dark pants and a black shirt. She took out her nice boots, tall ones with thick heels and put them on. She dug into the bag and produced a deep maroon coat.

"That's nice." Clary breathed. "Where did you get it?"

Eliza put it on. It fit perfectly. She had never worn it before. She fixed the collar. On each button was the Morgenstern crest. "A gift from our father. Before I went to New York." Clary inhaled sharply. "Figured I'd look my best before I get eaten alive."

* * *

She took a deep breath before walking into the Hall of Accords. _Breathe in, breathe out. In through the nose, out through the mouth_.

They had put the Hall to good use, turning it into a Council chamber since the Gard had burned. People scurried around, some still looking for missing family members, some waiting to hear news, some just…waiting. The maroon coat felt stiff on her body.

Several older Shadowhunters were gathered near the central fountain, talking quietly on the benches. What she wanted was in the center of the room. The Clave.

From a muffle voice, she heard that the demon towers were active again. Bitterly, she knew that Valentine would find a new way in. He always found a way.

Standing on the raised dais was the Consul. He was next to a smaller man, an angry expression on his face.

"That's Inquisitor Aldertree." Simon whispered.

Her eyes didn't leave the Inquisitor. Just like the one before him, he would get a piece of her mind.

"I see Luke." Clary grabbed Eliza's elbow. She dragged her towards the dried up central fountain.

Eliza saw Luke ahead of them, conversing with a scruffy man. Nearby, she spotted Amatis, sitting alone on a bench. Luke saw them and approached, a frown on his face.

"The three of you can't be here." He told him. "Children aren't allowed in meetings and Simon really shouldn't be fronting around the Inquisitor like this." He looked at Eliza, a soft expression on his face. "Eliza, I don't think it's in your best interest to be here." He told her quietly.

"I tried telling Clary that." Eliza muttered. "My sister is proving to be very stubborn these days."

Clary rolled her eyes. She handed Luke the photo of Sebastian Verlac. "Luke, we've got a problem. This is a photo of the real Sebastian." Clary explained everything that Aline had told her to Luke.

"Do the two look the same? The real Sebastian and the imposter?"

Clary shook her head while Eliza said no. "The fake Sebastian is taller, I think. And I think he dyes his hair black. It didn't look natural. Aline wants the Lightwoods to know that the imposter wasn't actually related to the Penhallows."

Eliza crossed her arms over her chest. Those weren't the only differences, she was sure the real Sebastian Verlac had probably been really nice.

"Did Aline tell her parents?" Luke asked. Clary said that she didn't think so. She thought Aline went straight to her with the photos and wanted her to give them to Luke because people listened to him.

Luke glanced back at the man he had been talking to. "That's Patrick Penhallow. He was telling me about Valentine. They were friends when they were younger. I don't doubt that Valentine kept his eye on the Penhallows throughout the years. You said Hodge mentioned something about spies in the Clave?" He looked at Simon. Simon nodded, not saying anything. "I'm sorry. The Lightwoods aren't here. Max's funeral was this morning." He cast a glance at Eliza.

"Just family." She told him. "Jace is a part of their family. I'm not."

"But you're Jace's family." Clary protested.

She said no. "It isn't that simple, Clary." Her tone said that their conversation on the matter was over.

She hadn't wanted to go to the funeral. She wouldn't have been able to bear it.

"Okay. Just tell them tonight, then." Clary told Luke. "They should be glad that whoever Sebastian actually is isn't related to the Penhallows."

Luke said it would be better if they knew where he had disappeared to or if they knew the names of Valentine's spies. "He must have had multiple people helping him. That would have been the only way for his plan to work. Maybe they helped from inside the city."

"Hodge told us that Valentine had figured out how to do it. He said something about needing demon blood to break the wards, but you can't get demon blood in the city?" Clary reported.

"There was a rune painted at the top of one of the towers. Painted in demon blood." Luke told them.

Eliza fought back an annoyed noise. She knew exactly how he'd done it. She ran her hands through her hair. _Oh, brother, you've found a use for our disgusting heritage after all._

"The blood should have set off the wards the second it was brought into the city." Luke continued. "However, the wards are back up. Now, the Clave knows the wards are not invincible. If Valentine returns, we may not be able to fend him off. Especially if his forces are larger this time." Clary asked about the Downworlders. If they would be willing to help fight with the Shadowhunters.

"I can advocate all I want, but it's ultimately up to Aldertree and Malachi if they'll let us help. I'm only still around because the Clave voted me in as an adviser."

Whatever Clary was about to reply with was cut off by a shrill scream slicing through the air. Eliza whipped around.

Amatis was standing, her hands covering her mouth, staring at the front of the Hall. In the doorway was a man. His features were obscured by the brightness of the sun outside. He took a step forward.

"Father." She whispered.

He had dressed for the occasion, whatever he had decided it was. He had shaved his face and he wore a fitted pin-striped suit with a matching dark tie. He bore no weapons that she could see. She would have called it a fool's mistake but her father was no fool.

He had his eyes trained on Luke. Aldertree jumped down from the dais and lunged at her father with a roar. Aldertree passed right through him and fell to the ground. Malachi moved and pulled the Inquisitor to his feet, his face full of contemptuous disgust.

Valentine looked at no one else but Luke as he continued through the room. Whispers carried throughout the crowd. He stopped, coming to the steps of the dais beside them. She watched as he looked Clary over and passed completely over Simon as if he wasn't there at all.

"Daughter." He nodded at Eliza. Even though he was a Projection, she saw the glimmer in his eye. She wondered if Jonathan had told him how she threatened his life several times and how she had stuck a knife in him.

She smiled to herself. She had stabbed both of them. Her greatest demons.

"Lucian." Valentine turned his attention to Luke. Luke said nothing as he stared back at Valentine. The two hadn't been together in the same room since the night at Renwick's. They were two completely different men, hardened in separate ways over time. "You are an adviser to the Council now. You have infiltrated your way into the corruption. And here I had thought it could not get any worse." He didn't seem angry. His voice carried lightly and cheerily. He was amused. "And you've brought my daughters into the mess yet again." He turned to Clary. "I see you've taken after your sister and gotten yourself a pet vampire, Clarissa."

Simon made a growling noise and Clary whispered something to him.

"Simon isn't a pet." Eliza told him. "He's our friend. And Declan is my boyfriend, by the way." Valentine made a noise of only disgust and looked away from them. He stepped atop the dais, eyes scanning over the crowd. "I see so many old friends. Malachi. Patrick." He stopped, staring at Luke's sister. "Amatis."

She didn't look as pleased to see him as he did her.

"And Aldertree." Valentine bemused. "I have heard that you are the cause of Hodge Starkweather's death?" Aldertree sputtered something in response. "Pitiful. He was an old friend."

"Valentine, are you admitting that you broke the wards and let the demons into the city?" Luke asked, his voice steady.

Her father smiled at him, a cold, malicious smile that only he could wear so well. "Oh, yes. And I would do it again. It was expected, I'm sure? If not by the Clave, then by you?"

Luke said yes, he had expected it. "Are you here to bargain or to gloat?"

He said neither.

"Bullshit." Eliza said suddenly. Someone gasped. Anger sparkled in his projected eyes.

"Excuse me? That is no language to use with your father." He had his warning tone. She was treading on thin ice. But he was a Projection and she no longer cared.

"I said _bullshit_." She repeated. "You want something. If you didn't, you wouldn't have made such a spectacle and come here. Tell us what it is and then go. You've caused enough damage for a little while, I think."

Another smile, this one a little kinder. "I only said I wasn't here to gloat or bargain. I have no need for either of those. Do you think that I relish in spilling Shadowhunter blood, my child? We are a dying race and the world needs us now more than ever."

"Right." She laughed coldly. "Only because you're calling hordes of demons from other dimensions. I'm sure that isn't helping our cause at all."

"I am doing what I have to." He insisted. "I did what was needed in order to make the Clave listen. I am not the cause of Nephilim death. The Clave is." He turned his wicked gaze to Aldertree.

Aldertree had paled significantly. His mouth twitched but he said nothing in response.

Declan put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back.

"Some of you here were in the Circle with me. Many of you stood outside and watched us. I address all of you now. Fifteen years ago, I heeded my warning to you. I told you that Alicante would be overrun by half-breeds and demons unless we acted against the Accords and now here we stand. My prediction has rang true. The Gard is demolished, your Portal is gone. Nephilim blood has been spilled by demon scum and you stand here with half-breed degenerates assuming leadership over you. Brethren, I ask you this: do you believe me now?" He paused. "DO YOU BELIEVE ME?"

No one spoke. They all only stood and waited for someone to have the courage.

"Do you not see what you've done, Valentine?" Luke asked. His voice was soft, like he was speaking to someone near to his heart. "The Accords never equalized Downworlders and Shadowhunters. Prejudice still rang out and rang loudly. But, you could not trust the long in place hatreds. And now, you've brought us all together because now we have something in common. An enemy."

She saw her father's face turn pale. "I will never be an enemy of the Nephilim. Only you can be that. You who stands here and urges them into a fight they cannot win. The demons you saw are only but a small fraction of the ones I can summon."

Luke's shoulders stiffened. "As there are more Nephilim and more Downworlders to fight against them."

Valentine laughed haughtily. "Your Downworlders will flee at the first sign of true danger. They are not born to be warriors as we are. You are burned by silver and the Night Children burn in the light of the sun."

Simon cleared his throat. "Not me." He said in a hard voice. "I can stand in sunlight."

Eliza closed her eyes. How she wished he hadn't said anything. But she did admire his raw courage.

"You are a monster, little vampire. I've seen you choke on your God's name. You may be an anomaly amongst your kind, but you will always remain a monster to this world."

 _Monster. Monster. Monster._

He despised monsters yet created them in his own children. Images from Ithuriel's visions flashed in her mind. Jocelyn talking to Ragnor about how Valentine had made her children monsters. The woman giving Valentine her blood. Demon's blood.

"You want to talk about monsters?" Clary's voice rang out. "The only monster here is you." Surprise was etched on his face as he looked at her. "We saw Ithuriel." She motioned between herself and Eliza. "We know everything you did."

 _Oh, dear._

"If you did truly know everything, you wouldn't speak. Maybe not for your sake, but for your brother's. And especially your sister's."

"Don't threaten her." Eliza snarled at him. "Do it again and I'll find you and stab you again. In the heart this time."

Luke grabbed her and pulled her backwards harshly. "What about my brother, Valentine?" Someone said. Amatis was speaking. Her voice was bitter, but oddly collected. She moved quickly, standing before him on the dais. Valentine asked what she could mean. "You came to me and said he was no longer my brother. And then you took Stephen away too. You ripped my family apart." It was the first time she had heard the woman say Stephen's name. "You tell us that you aren't our enemy, but you're the one ripping our families apart. You made the Clave what it is today. You are the reason that we are the way we are now. You will never be forgiven. Not for that and not for making me believe that Lucian wasn't my brother any longer. Just as I'll never forgive myself for believing you." She was crying, Eliza saw. Luke stepped to her but she put her hand up to stop him. "Once, we would have all listened to you and we will all bear that shame. But no longer will you hold us. That time is long passed. Are there any here today who disagree with me?" She called out.

Eliza looked around. No one was speaking, no one was moving. She looked back at her father, his face void of any telling features. There was no anger, no annoyance. Only complacency.

"So be it." He said. "You will not listen by way of reason, so I pray you will listen by way of force. You have seen what I can do, the power I have. You may have put your wards back up, but I can take them down again just as easily. Either listen to me and follow me or fall under the power of every demon I shall summon with the Mortal Sword. No one will be spared. No man, no woman, no child." He spoke very clearly. Anger edged his words, but his temper was not yet lost. "The choice is yours."

Everyone began whispering hurriedly. He was talking mass annihilation of every Shadowhunter within the city, maybe even within Idris. Maybe even the world.

"You would commit genocide against your own race, Valentine?" Luke asked breathlessly.

He said yes without hesitation. "The garden must be cleansed of the diseased plants. And if the whole garden has succumbed to the disease, then so be it." Murmurs went through the crowd. He couldn't be serious. But she knew that he was. "I have the Mortal Cup. I will be able to create a new race of Shadowhunters. A world of Nephilim taught and trained by me. This will happen unless the Clave agrees to sign over all of its power to me. Make me the all-powerful sovereign leader and I will not wipe you out. In this, all Shadowhunters must swear an oath of obedience to me and wear a permanent loyalty rune binding them to me."

Eliza scoffed, louder than she had intended.

"Is there something you want to say?" He asked her.

Luke tried to stop her, but she walked forward. As she grew closer to the Projection of her father, her heartbeat rang louder and louder in her ears. "You expect to make every single Shadowhunter follow your rule. You want an entire species of people obedient to you and only you. But you couldn't even make your own daughter obedient." She stood in front of his Projection, steadier than she had ever felt. It seemed like it was only the two of them. Everyone else seemed to fade away into the background, noiseless and motionless. She took the journal from her pocket, waving it in front of him. "Found this, by the way." She said, opening it up.

"Why do you have that?" He snarled.

She held up a finger. "Ah, ah. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Dad." He hated the word. It was too mundane, too plain for him. "Hmm, let's see. Right. Here we are." She found the page she wanted. "Shall I give everyone a group reading session? Tell them the horrible things you did to me? It's all written here in perfect detail." The corner of his mouth twitched, but he remained silent. "Perfect." She glanced around the room. "This entry is dated April 1, 2002." She told them. " _Today, I locked her up. Her training performance is less than satisfactory. Her mouth is too smart and she may be the most disobedient child I have ever come across. The Malachi Configuration should prove to be helpful in dissolving her resilience. Constant lashings do not seem to sway her. She is both strong and weak. Strong in that she does not cry in pain or show her pain. Weak in that her lack of loyalty and her dismal fighting skills._ " She looked up, a half smile on her face. "Shall I continue? The next part is my favorite."

"By all means. Finish your performance."

She didn't need to look back down at the book. She had memorized it. It was burned in her memory. "The next entry is three days later." She said aloud. "April 4, 2002. My twelfth birthday." She heard Luke whisper something to Clary, but she couldn't make it out. " _Three days with no food or water and still my daughter survives. I released her this morning and presented her with a birthday gift. Naturally, she was not grateful. Not like her brother. She thinks I left her alone in that basement and for the most part, I did. But I watched from the shadows at night. I watched her reach for the blades that confined her. I told her that touching them would kill her. I had hoped she would die down there. She is a stain to the Morgenstern name, a disgrace to her ancestors. Not at all the child I wanted. But still, she is my own child, my daughter, so I have resolved to her. If she were not mine, she would be dead. I hold no softness towards her, no love lies in my heart for this child. One day, she will be tested and when she fails, because she always does, I will end her._ " With a foreign satisfaction, she slammed the journal shut.

The room was quiet.

"Look at you." Valentine broke the solid silence. "My training did you well. You are the best Shadowhunter of your age, I hear. Do not say I never gave you anything."

She pocketed the book. "Oh, I know just how much you gave me."

"You will not rule!" The Inquisitor shouted out suddenly. The Consul moved to grab him but Aldertree evaded him. He ran towards the dais, continuing to shout his words over and over. His eyes had nearly rolled back into his head. He pushed Amatis aside and ran up the dais steps to stand before her father. "I am the Inquisitor! Me, not you!" Aldertree yelled at him. "I am the Clave and the Council, do you hear me? You don't make the rules, I do! _You_ are the stain, you are the disgrace! You demon-loving-." His words were cut short.

Valentine reached out to him, a very bored look on his face. His hand went through the Inquisitor, up to his wrist vanishing in Aldertree's chest cavity. The world went still as they watched. Valentine's arm jerked to the left and Aldertree cried out, falling down the steps.

Valentine withdrew his hand. It was dark red, wet with blood. He looked out at the crowd, sweeping over them. He rested his gaze on Luke.

"You have until tomorrow at midnight. I will be waiting with the full force of my army at Brocelind Plain. If by that time you have not surrendered, my army will destroy everything in Alicante. This I promise you." With one last agonizing rest of his eyes on Eliza, in which she felt her bones grow cold, he disappeared into the air.

Eliza looked back at Luke, her face drawn in uncertain emotion. "Tell them to surrender. Do it or we'll all die."


	29. Chapter 29

She leaned against the wall, her eyes on Jace. They were in the living room of the semi-permanent Lightwood house. Jace was across from her, leaning on the window.

"I attend my little brother's funeral and miss all the fun. How typical."

She rolled her eyes. It was rather macabre of him to bring Max's funeral into the mix of the conversation.

"Jace." Alec said softly. Eliza looked at Alec, his worn figure sitting in one of the armchairs. "Please, don't."

Both of the boys wore white, the mourning color. She felt too out of place in her black pants and blood red coat. The boys' jackets had scarlet grief runes etched onto the fabric.

"Don't what, Alec?" Jace asked sharply.

She hoped they didn't bring themselves to an argument. It wasn't the day for them to be upset with one another. "You're mad. Don't take it out on Clary or Simon. They haven't done anything."

Simon leaned against the sofa. "I thought Projections couldn't do anything? How is it that Valentine managed to kill the Inquisitor?" He asked them.

"He's Valentine. He can do anything." Eliza said wearily. They all looked at her. "What? I know you were all thinking it. He managed to take down the wards on the demon towers, set fire to the Gard, and bring demons into Alicante. He used a Projection of himself to kill Inquisitor Aldertree. He managed to locate and steal two of the Mortal Instruments."

Alec sighed, but agreed with her. "I'm going to hate telling my parents this." Clary asked where Maryse and Robert were. "Still at the necropolis. They wanted to be alone."

"Where's Izzy?" Eliza asked. She hadn't seen her since they arrived at the house after the incident at the Hall of Accords.

"Her room." Jace answered. "She won't come out. She thinks that Max- she's blaming herself. She didn't go to the funeral."

Eliza bit on her tongue. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine." She told them. "I shouldn't have left to find you guys."

Alec got up from the chair. He walked over to her and pulled her into a hug. "Don't say that. You couldn't have known. You helped Izzy before you left. You couldn't have helped Max, I don't think."

She could have though. If she would have told them who Sebastian was, who he really was, she could have prevented everything.

 _But someone still would have died. You know that. You knew if you told anyone who he was, he would hurt someone._

She had to keep telling herself that.

"Besides, this whole mess about Sebastian not actually being Sebastian might lift Izzy's spirits." Alec assured her. "She thinks that she should have known something was wrong with him. But none of us knew. He even tricked the Penhallows."

Jace was staring at her. "You didn't think anything about him was sketchy when you went on that walk?" He asked her. "He didn't say anything to you about Valentine? Do anything weird?"

She wrenched out of Alec's grip. She took out a knife, fiddling it between her fingers. "He didn't say anything about Valentine. He just kind of…I don't know, made me uneasy. And then Magnus told me that he showed up with Clary looking for Ragnor and I didn't feel right. I told Clary to stay away from him."

"None of this matters, anyway." Alec resigned. "Valentine is threatening to send a colossal demon army to the city tomorrow night."

Clary asked if he would really do it. If Valentine would actually destroy all of the Shadowhunters. All of his people.

"Clary, what makes you think Valentine cares about destroying his people?" Jace questioned. "He destroyed his own children, so I don't think he really cares about anyone else."

Both Alec and Simon seemed confused. Neither of them, she was guessing, had been filled in on the visions from Ithuriel.

"Magnus said he was trying to track Sebastian. He was using a tracking rune on some of the stuff in his room to try and locate him. But he said all the reading were flat."

Alec wondered what that meant.

"It means," Eliza sighed heavily, "the real Sebastian is dead. Our imposter probably got to him before the real Sebastian could get to Idris and killed him. He took his things and came here, pretending to be Sebastian Verlac." Alec paled. "The imposter is good. He managed to fool everyone into believing he was someone he wasn't. He wouldn't have left anything behind that would be able to point to where he is."

Jace agreed with her. "He would have taken anything that was of any value to him, anything we'd need to track him. A stele, hairbrush, stuff like that. Which majorly sucks because we could have probably found Valentine through him. No doubt he went running back to him and spilled the beans about Hodge's crackpot theory about the Mortal Glass."

Eliza frowned. "What are you talking about?" She asked him. "What did he say about the Mortal Glass?"

No one had said anything to her about it.

"Hodge believed that Lake Lyn was the Mortal Mirror. He told us about it and I'm sure Sebastian heard everything." Jace explained.

 _Great,_ she thought, _he'll have everything. All three Mortal Instruments. He'll be invincible._

"Don't worry. The Clave has a whole station of guards around the paths that lead to the lake. And they've set up wards to signal if anyone Portals there." Alec assured them.

That wouldn't stop her father. She knew that much and she hoped they did too.

"Why'd he stick around?" Simon asked. Eliza sat down on the couch, resting her head on the cushion. "I don't really get why Sebastian decided to hang around after attacking Izzy and Max. He knew he'd get caught. Why did he bother to come up to the Gard after you guys for me? I don't think he really cared about me." Simon wondered.

She leaned her head back, looking up at the ceiling. So many things she knew and couldn't explain. So little time until they were all dead as doornails.

"I think it was because of me." Clary said.

Eliza looked up. Both she and Jace were staring at Clary. "Oh yeah?" Jace asked. "Probably hoping for another hot date."

Clary's face turned red. "It was neither hot nor a date." She told him. "You saw how he was at the Hall. He kept trying to get me to go outside with him. He wanted something from me, but I don't know what."

"He could have just wanted you." Jace suggested. Her eyes widened and he said that wasn't what he meant. "No, like, he could have wanted to take you to Valentine."

Clary said that couldn't be it. "Valentine doesn't care about me. He doesn't even see me as his kid. He only cares about you and Liz."

She barked out a cold piece of laughter. Jace asked what she thought was so funny. She raised up from her lounging position on the couch. "I wouldn't be so kind as to call it caring, little sister." She told Clary with a cold look. Her eyes had since gone green again, but there was a hollowness to them. A creeping coldness that seemed reckless and dangerous. "Shall I read you the part in his journal again where dear old Dad admitted that he wished I had _died_?" She fished the journal from her pocket. "It's all right here." She tossed the book on the coffee table. "He said it himself. He wanted me to die down there and when I didn't, he wasn't pleased. He said that if I weren't his own flesh and blood, I would be dead by now."

"Liz…" Alec's voice was feather soft. Careful.

"Open it and read it. It's all in there. Every bad thing he did to me. Every disappointment. He _knew_. He knew one day he would test me and he knew I would fail. He said 'and when she fails, because she always does, she will die', Alec. I'm of no interest to him besides the fact that he'll kill me when he has the chance."

Alec's face fell, his blue eyes melancholy.

"Clary, you need to be careful." Jace changed the subject. "He wants you because of what you can do, what you did that night on the ship. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if you locked yourself in your room the next few days. Take a page from Isabelle's book."

Clary said there was no way that was happening.

"Hey guys, speaking of her, I think I should go talk to Isabelle." Simon mentioned casually.

Alec raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?" He inquired. "Her own family can't even get her to talk. Why would you be any more successful?"

Simon shrugged. "Might be because I'm not her family." He put his hands in his pants pockets, standing casually before them. She saw a faint white line on his throat, the place Valentine had shoved the Mortal Sword through his throat. "It couldn't hurt, right?"

"Simon, it's almost dark. We told Amatis and Luke we'd be back before sundown." Jace said he would walk Clary home and Simon could manage his own in the dark. Alec, not realizing Jace's sarcasm yet again, said it was because he was a vampire.

Jace asked Eliza if she wanted to join them and she said no. She didn't want to go anywhere. They left without so much as a goodbye and Simon disappeared to go to Isabelle.

"Tea?" Alec asked. She didn't even have to answer. She followed him to the kitchen and watched as he put a kettle of water on to boil. "Can I ask where you were? Before you came back yesterday?" He spoke quietly and carefully.

"Home." She said simply. With his confused look, she clarified. "I went to where I grew up. The cottage I told you about." He asked why. "I was reading his journal. I wanted to be alone when I read everything he really thought of me."

"Was it all as horrible as what you told us?"

She nodded. "Growing up, he tried to conceal it. I think I knew how much he didn't care for me. It was after the Malachi Configuration when it all became clear. The day he let me out, my twelfth birthday, that was the day I promised myself I would do whatever I could to stop him." Alec made a soft noise. "The journal just confirmed everything I thought about him."

"I'm sorry, Liz. I wish you had never gone through that. But if it's any consolation, you aren't any of those things he says about you. You're better than him by a long shot. You aren't a failure or a disgrace. You're one of the most loyal and dedicated people I know. You're one of the best."

She smiled at him softly. If only he knew what she really was.

The kettle began to steam and screech. She got two tea mugs from the cabinet and put bags in them. Alec poured water over them and they waited while the tea steeped.

"You know, before we came to Alicante, your mom offered to take me in." She told him.

"Really?"

"Mhm. I turned her down. I think Magnus and I are a good fit together." She looked at him discreetly. He hadn't said anything about Magnus in a while and Magnus hadn't said anything about him. "Also, she suggested that if Declan and I don't work out, you and I would be a great match." Alec laughed, picking up his cup. "Will you ever tell them?" She asked. "About Magnus?"

He took a slow sip. "Yeah. I want to. It's just that, I don't know. I don't want them to see me any differently or think of me differently. I mean, you heard what Sebastian said about me. We both know there are plenty of Shadowhunters who feel the same way."

She rolled her eyes. "That fake Sebastian dude was spewing a whole bunch of crazy nonsense, Alexander. Your parents love you immensely and I don't think that would change at all. You shouldn't feel like you have to hide who you are."

He looked at her over his mug. "Is that what you do?" He asked quietly. "Hide who you are? You don't talk a lot about what happened to you or how you feel. You do everything for everyone else. You don't let anyone see you, the real you."

She smiled. "Yeah, but I'm a lot better at it than you, Lightwood. Maybe one day, when all of this is over, and I feel safe again. I'll let you guys in."

He said that would be nice. "And hey, if things with Magnus don't work out, I'll let you know. We'd make cute kids, probably."

She laughed under her breath. "Are you…you know? Into both?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. But I know you're my best friend and I trust you with my life."

 _What a terrible decision, Alexander._

* * *

"Wake up." Someone's voice was hastily demanded. She stirred, flipping away from the voice with a groan. "Get up." The voice ordered. She groaned again, pulling the pillow over her head. "Damn it, Liz, _get up_." The pillow was yanked from the bed and tossed aside.

She sat up, a rude look on her face. Jace was sitting on the edge of her bed. "What the hell do you want? I'm sleeping." She pulled the blanket further over her chest. She was only wearing a thick materialled sport bra and shorts. Even in late September, the room at the top of the house they stayed in got warm at night.

"I wanted to talk to you."

She wanted to wring his neck. "It couldn't wait 'til morning? It's the middle of the night."

He said no. She realized he hadn't changed clothes from earlier. He still wore his white mourning clothes. He seemed dazed, not completely aware of himself.

"Jace, are you okay?" She asked. She reached for his hand and he drew away.

"I tried not to come up here. I told myself not to come. I haven't been able to sleep and there's no piano and I found myself coming to your room."

She frowned at him. He definitely didn't seem okay. "Tell me what's wrong. You only have trouble sleeping when something is bothering you."

He found something amusing in her words because he laughed quietly. "Only you know that." He mumbled, shaking his head. "You know what's wrong." When he looked at her, her heart wrenched. "Can I tell you something?"

"Always."

"I've come upon a realization tonight. It came from a thought I had, about you, actually." She didn't know where he was going with it and she wasn't sure she wanted to. Had hours of deep thought uncovered the truth for him? Had it realized there was no way they could be siblings, let alone twins? "I was thinking about the first time I ever saw you." What a thought. "It was at the dock, in May. It was windy out. I watched out for a few minutes, looking around the dock. You had this look on your face and it was like pure joy, relishing in the busyness of it all. Your hair was pulled back from your face. You were wearing a white dress."

She stared back at him, wondering how he could have possibly remembered that. She didn't even remember that.

"And then, you looked at me. You _saw_ me. You walked right over to me and said-."

"'I suppose you're my ticket to the Institute.'" She finished. Not her best one-liner. "You didn't trust me. I could see it."

He smiled back at her. "I was told never to trust a pretty girl."

She held in a laugh. "That didn't work out very well for you, did it?"

That was when he grabbed her hand. "I tried to not like you. I tried to hate you. I stayed up all hours of the night trying to pick you apart in my brain and find things to hate about you. It took me an hour to realize I was only finding things I liked." She swallowed hard. "I used to be so bad with girls. I used to want them and then I would know them and throw them away. It wasn't like that with you. I just wanted you more the more I knew you. And then you threw me away. I was so upset when Alec showed me that letter from Magnus that night. I was pissed at you for lying and for throwing away who you were, but most of all, I was pissed that you thought I would hate you. That I would never forgive you."

She bit on her lip, hard enough she could have drawn blood. "I did it to protect you, Jace. I didn't mean for any of it to happen. Believe me, I didn't want you to fall in love with me and I never expected to feel the same way."

"When Valentine came for us, the night we found the Cup, I woke up and you knew who you were again. You didn't seem surprised at all by him, by anything. I didn't want to believe that you had always known I was your brother or that you'd known Clary was our sister. But I realized that the whole reason I felt so drawn to you, the reason I felt like you were some missing piece of me, was because you were my sister, my twin. It all felt like some sick joke. I waited for the shoe to drop, for you to tell me it was all a lie, but you never did. I must have done something terrible in a past life to be punished like this, I told myself."

He had waited for the truth to come out and he believed that what he knew was the truth. But he was wrong. He wasn't Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. He wasn't her twin brother. She didn't know who the hell he really was.

She leaned forward, the blanket falling off of her. She put her hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye. "Jace, please listen. I've told you over and over again that we can't feel the way we do. We have to stop pushing ourselves like this, we can't keep blurring the line. If we don't, we're going to lose our only chance at this." He asked, in a small voice, what she meant. "We've only got one real chance to stay together, to be near each other, and that's by only being brother and sister. If we continue the way we are, we'll lose that too. We won't be able to be around each other. One of us would have to go away somewhere. We have to only be siblings or we can't be anything at all."

He leaned back just a little away from her. "So, I have to watch you fall in love with Declan or someone else? I have to sit back and watch as you get married and…I can't. I can't do that because every day, every single day, a piece of me will die."

She shook her head, her hands moving to his jaw. "No, no you won't, Jace. I promise. I swear to you that by the time I fall in love or get married, you won't feel anything for me at all, nothing but brotherly love. Real brotherly love." God, she hoped the lie didn't last that long. But would he even want her when the truth came out? She had wondered the same thing the last time, but this was different. "We have to pretend that we don't feel the way we do. It's the only way."

What came from him was a clear and precise _no_. A word as final as death itself. "I'm not going to pretend, Eliza. I'm sick and tired of pretending like I don't love you. I'm not going to act like I'm not in love with you, because I am. I have been since May. I loved you then, I love you now, and I'll love you until I die. If there happens to be a hereafter, I'll love you then."

Her breath hitched in her throat. She didn't know what to say. It wasn't as if they hadn't said it because they had. He had told her on several occasions. Her mouth was open, a small 'O' shape of astonishment.

"Maybe the demon blood makes us feel the way we do." He said. "But I know that there's human blood, too, that makes us feel this way. Demons don't love, they only want. There's a part of me that's human, but all of me loves you. And I know you have it in you too."

She couldn't find words. Even if she could have, she didn't know if she'd say them.

"I shouldn't have said anything." He said, his voice suddenly back to its usual fashion. Contemptuous and cold. Blocked off. Resigned. He stood up from the bed.

She didn't think, she only moved. She reached and grabbed his wrist, turning him back towards her. "Don't go." She said softly. "This time tomorrow we could be fighting for our lives or could be living under Father's firm rule. Or dead." She thought of the words her father had scrawled in the journal. How he wished for her to die in the prison he made her. How he knew she would fail and he would finally be allowed to give her the justice he thought she deserved for not being the monster he wanted.

And that was what she didn't understand.

He made no real difference between she and Jonathan. Not in their younger years. He had treated them equally, completely so. Only as she grew older did she notice the change. He favored Jonathan more. But even with their father's favor, Jonathan was still vile and wrong. He had become the monster.

What had gone wrong with her? Why had Jonathan been a success and she a failure?

He looked down at her. "I couldn't sleep because I wanted to be here with you. I wanted to spend what could be our last night with you."

"Okay." Was all she said.

"And I won't touch you. I swear. Not even if you want me to. Like you said, it isn't right. It's so many kinds of wrong, really." He was rambling. "How much can one night matter in a person's life, anyway?" He asked.

Considering it could be their last, a lot.

"Okay." She repeated.

He looked down at her, annoyance flashing in his eyes. "God, Eliza. I can't-."

"Jace." She spoke, her green eyes seeming to shimmer. "Get in bed. It's late. I'm tired, you woke me up."

A crooked smile graced his beautiful face. He let her hand fall and went to the door, shutting it quietly. She sat and waited, watching him shred his jacket to the top of the dresser. He took off his belt and took off his shoes. Quietly, in only a way Jace could be so quiet, he moved to the bed and laid down. She adjusted to make room for him.

Lying on his back, he looked at her. She got comfortable next to him.

Every part of her felt like it was on fire, just being next to him. Her nerves were on edge having him so close. She let out a sigh and when she looked over again, his eyes were closed.

Her heart panged with an unfamiliar sorrow. "My greatest sin." She murmured. Never again would it be this way. Never again would she be able to see him the way he was then, vulnerable and so close. Because when the sun rose the day after next, she knew she would be dead.

* * *

When she woke, Jace was gone. She looked around the room but didn't see him. His things were gone.

She got up from the bed and moved to the window. It was still dark out, but she could see deep in the horizon where the sun was beginning to come to life again.

"Good. You're up." His voice startled her.

She turned from the window, letting the curtain fall back into place. He was wearing the same clothes from the night before. Did he ever change?

 _No, you idiot. You know he feels like what happened was his fault. You know him better than anyone._

"Are you going somewhere?" She asked. "It's barely dawn."

He tossed her an apple. Green, the kind she liked. "We're going somewhere. Hurry up and get changed. Get weapons too."

She didn't bother asking where they were going. He turned around to let her change in privacy. She switched out her pajamas for the same dark pants she'd worn the day before and a dark long sleeve shirt. She grabbed a light jacket and put it on and then pulled her boots on, lacing them tightly. She grabbed her sword, adjusting it on her back. She put two seraph blades on her belt and snapped the braces around her wrist. Each had a knife in it and she put her last three on her belt.

"Let's go." She said, taking a bite from the apple.

They crept out of the house with a quiet carefulness, even though no one else would be awake for hours. She finished her apple, discarding the core to a disposal bin.

They walked towards the center of the city. "Where to?" She asked.

"Hall of Accords." He replied easily. She thought that was the quickest he had ever answered one of her questions. "I thought of something and we need to see Luke."

They approached the Hall. Jace left her next to the doors and he peeked into the doorway inside. She could hear murmuring voices, many people talking at once. She heard a deep voice excuse themselves. Jace made his way back down the stairs to join her.

Just after him, she watched Luke come outside to them. "Jonathan, Eliza. I'm surprised to see you here." Surprisingly, Jace didn't object to being called Jonathan for once.

"Yes, well, you know what they say about the early bird and the worm." Eliza quipped sleepily.

Luke smiled grimly. "Are you here for the Lightwoods?" Jace said no. "Is Clary okay?" They both said yes. "Okay, you two, what's going on?"

She watched Jace peer past Luke into the Hall. "Are you making any progress in there?"

Wearily, Luke said no. "They don't want to give in to Valentine but they also don't want Downworlders to hold Council seats. The Downworlders won't fight with Shadowhunters unless they're represented on the Council."

"I'm sure the Clave loves the idea of having Downworlders on the Council." Jace said darkly.

"It doesn't matter whether they like it or not. They just need to like it more than they like going into a fight they can't win."

"They aren't going to come to a decision by midnight." Eliza told Luke. "You know how they are."

"Give them a deadline." Jace added on. "It will help more than you know."

She saw the slight smile on Luke's face. "I've summoned as many Downworlders that would listen to me. They'll be at the North Gate at twilight. Hopefully, the Clave will agree to fight alongside them and allow them into the city. If the Clave doesn't agree, the Downworlders will turn and leave." Eliza said twilight seemed a little late. "I tried. We may make it Brocelind by midnight."

"Do you think the Clave would be more fearful or inspired by the sight of all those Downworlders at the gate?" Jace asked.

"Both, more than likely." Luke answered honestly. "I know that most of them are more closely associated with Downworlders like the two of you, from working at the various Institutes. It's the members who have always been in Idris that concern me. I'm hoping that them seeing the Downworlders reminds them of our vulnerability."

Jace lifted his head to look at the Gard. Part of it still smoked and it was in ruins. Eliza let out a soft sigh. "Luke, I don't believe that anyone needs to be reminded of that anymore." She said quietly.

"We came here for more than just a polite conversation." Jace said, his voice suddenly more urgent.

"I was unaware." She replied smoothly. "I was dragged from my bed and forced along."

Luke cleared his throat. "What is it?"

"If I tell you something, it's in confidence." Jace told Luke.

What was going on with him? What had been so important that they'd had to come to the Hall early in the morning? What wasn't he telling her?

"Why me?" Luke asked. "Why not the Lightwoods?" Jace said it was because Luke was in charge, whether he realized it or not. "Okay…"

"Also, because Clary will listen to you clearly when you explain where we went."

Eliza turned sharply to look at him. "What?" She whispered. "What are you talking about?"

Jace gave her a sad look. Once again, he had tricked her. Into what, though, she wasn't yet sure.

"You're going to have to explain to Clary why we're doing what we're doing." Jace continued on. "We're going after Sebastian. I know how to find him, Luke. We're going to follow him until he leads us right to Valentine."

She took several steps back, nearly falling down the stairs. Both Jace and Luke reached out, grabbing her arms to steady her. She ripped away from them. "Are you serious right now?" She hissed. "Go after him? Jace, you have no idea-."

"How do you know how to find him?" Luke cut her off, looking back to Jace.

It was not the first time she had wanted to wring Jace's neck and she didn't doubt it would be the last. He had a bad habit of tricking her into things.

"Magnus showed me a tracking spell a while back, while I was staying with him." Oh, had he? He'd never showed her any kind of spell. "I wanted to try and find Valentine using his ring but it didn't work." Luke told him that he couldn't do a tracking spell. Neither of them could. They weren't warlocks.

"I'm not using a spell." Jace corrected himself. "I'm using tracking runes. The same kind Inquisitor Herondale used on me to follow us to Valentine's ship. We just needed something of Sebastian's to make it work."

Eliza frowned at him. "Jace, he didn't leave anything of value behind. We've been through this already."

He grinned madly at her. He finally knew something she didn't. The weasel. "Actually, I have something. I found a thread that's soaked in his blood. It worked. I already used the runes."

Of course he had.

"Okay, look." Luke sighed. "I understand where you're coming from, but the two of you can't just go running off after this guy. Especially if he's going to lead you to Valentine. They're dangerous."

Something clicked inside of her. Maybe it was her mind finally coming to life, being roused from sleep as the sky turned pink. Or maybe she was losing her mind.

"So are we." She told Luke. "We were both trained by Valentine. We're the best Shadowhunters of our age, everyone knows it. If anyone can do this, it's us."

Jace looked pretty proud. "You can't stop us." He said simply. "I mean, you could try, but that isn't a fight you'll win. And you know it."

Eliza crossed her arms over her chest. She stared up at Luke, determination on her face.

"I don't care how determined the two of you are to play heroes, I can't-."

"Don't say that." Eliza snapped. "I'm not a hero."

"Neither am I." Jace said.

"The two of you aren't thinking clearly. You need to think of how this affects the Lightwoods, and Clary." A strange emotion crossed over Jace's face. She herself hadn't had the time to think of everyone their little journey would affect. "Think of Magnus, and Declan. Even if nothing happens to the two of you, you need to think about it."

She thought of Magnus. His little dove. He had been her first real friend in New York. The first person to know who she really was and he had accepted her for it. He loved her for it. And Declan. She cared so much for him, but never the way she cared about Jace.

"When I think of Magnus and Declan, I think about the fact that they're Downworlders. A warlock and a vampire. I think of how much my father hates them, not just for that reason, but because they're close to me. I think of how he threatened to kill both of them. I won't let that happen, Luke." She told him.

"I remember very clearly what it was like to be seventeen, you two. I know that you think you have the power and the responsibility to save the world but-."

Jace cut him off. "Do you really look at us and just see two ordinary seventeen-year-olds?" He inquired. Luke said no with a sigh, nothing about them was close to ordinary.

He had no idea.

"All right then." Jace decided. "Your plan is a good one, Luke. You need to bring the Downworlders in and fight him off as much as you can. But we all know that he's going to expect that. The one thing he may not see coming is us tracking Sebastian, following him. Don't you think that if we can pull something over on him, we should try?"

"Even so, it's a lot to put on two kids."

Jace's eyes were bright. "It has to be us." He persisted. "Only us. Valentine may let us get close enough to-."

"To what?" Luke urged.

"Kill him." Eliza said it as if she had just suggested they go get coffee or lunch. It hadn't bothered her at all to say it. Both of them looked at her. "Valentine won't let me near him." She went on. "But he might let Jace. It's perfect, you see? Jace can distract him, get close to him, and then I can do what I've wanted to do for five years. Kill my father."

"And if she doesn't, I will." Jace told Luke.

Luke looked between them, searching them for something she didn't know. Maybe sizing them up, actually wondering if they had what it took. "You think you could actually do it? Kill him?" He asked them.

She walked up the stairs toward him. "You told me last month at Renwick's that I could. You told Valentine that you really believed I would kill him, or at least let you do it." He had ruined her life, made her something deplorable. He had threatened the people she loved most. She wouldn't just kill him. She would destroy him.

"Is this the part of the conversation where you tell us that we shouldn't kill him because patricide is reprehensible offense?" Jace asked Luke.

Luke stood in silence for a long few seconds. "You have to understand the severity of this." He told them. "What you're doing, the decision you've made. You're going off to hunt your father down and kill him. You're severing all of your ties to the people who care about you the most, the people you love. If you're going to do this, you need to be sure that you won't fail when it comes down to it."

Jace and Eliza looked at each other. Valentine had trained them, he had made them into the perfect soldiers. If anyone were capable of killing him, it would be them. Mostly, she knew, it would be her.

Valentine had discarded Jace and told she and Jonathan that Jace had been too soft for what he wanted. He had told her the same thing. The difference was, she understood, was that she had demon blood in her. Jace didn't.

"Yes." Jace said. "He made us what we are. We can do it."

Luke sighed, shaking his head. "The two of you, you've done well." He said. "He put the two of you through hell and you've become the better because of it."

Above them, birds flew, chirping. The sky was becoming blue with the coming of the day. "We should go." Jace stated. Luke asked if there was anything they wanted him to tell the Lightwoods. "It's better if you don't. Just let them figure it out on their own. If they find out you knew, they'll blame you. Besides, I left them some notes."

He had put a lot of thought into this, she realized. It wasn't some spur of the moment decision. It was premeditated.

"Why are you telling me if you couldn't tell them?"

Jace shrugged, looking around. "Just keep us in mind when you're finalizing your battle strategy. If we find him, we'll let you know."

"We'll be the backup plan." Eliza said.

Something flashed in Luke's eyes as he looked back at them. "He would be proud of both of you. If he weren't the kind of person that he is."

"I'm sure." Eliza said coolly.

"I wish you luck, Luke." Jace told the man. " _Ave atque vale_." _Hail and farewell._

"I should hope that this won't be a final farewell." Luke replied. Behind them, the sun was coming up. Jace looked up at the sky and a brief ray flashed over his face. "Jace, you remind me of someone I knew a long time ago."

Jace's head fell with a slow intensity and he made eye contact with Luke. His mouth was twisted in a sour fashion. "Valentine. I remind you of my father."

"That isn't who I was thinking of." Luke said softly. "Not at all."

Jace turned away from him and she knew he didn't believe Luke's words. So many times, he had been compared to Valentine. Even she was guilty of noting the resemblance. She hated to admit it, but it was there. For years, Valentine had his hooks so deep in Jace. There was bound to be some trace of him within Jace.

"Let's go. We don't have a lot of time." Eliza told Jace in a quiet voice. He began to descend the stairs of the Hall. Eliza looked back at Luke. She stopped, waiting for Jace to be far enough away that he wouldn't hear her words. "Luke, if I don't come back…" His eyes were dark as he looked back at her, concern wrought on his worn features. "tell my mom that she was right about me, about what I am. And tell her that I forgive her, for everything."

* * *

For September, it was still warm out. She almost regretted bringing a jacket along, but she knew that when night came, she'd be more than thankful.

"You could have told me. You didn't have to be all secretive." She told Jace.

He made a noise that sounded awful close to a scoff. "Honestly, I didn't think you'd want to come. I know how much you hate Valentine, but I also know how much you're afraid of him."

She swallowed, rolling her shoulders. "You didn't think I'd want to help kill the person who killed your little brother and finally get revenge on Valentine for everything he's done? Maybe you don't know me so well after all."

He smiled dryly. "We know each other better than anyone else and you know it."

He was right. They understood one another on a level she couldn't comprehend. They worked well together, the way one Shadowhunter fought alongside his _parabatai_. Jace and Alec fought alongside each other in perfect harmony. As far as mentally, though, they couldn't be more different.

She and Jace thought in the same manner and that was the same way they fought.

 _Maybe that's why it's so easy for everyone to believe he's your brother_ , she thought. She wondered about Jonathan. If anyone ever found out who he really was, what would they think? Would they believe that she and Jonathan were brother and sister? Twins? After realizing what Jonathan had done, the person he was, would they think of her the same way?

"We're here." Jace told her.

They were at the stables. She felt foolish for expecting to run around on foot. Their task was a little too time-sensitive for walking. Jace seemed to know exactly where he wanted to go and she didn't mind following. He led her to a stable with _Verlac_ engraved on the nameplate. He opened the stable door and calmed the horse down.

Without words, he saddled the horse. She watched him hoist himself onto the horse and then he extended his hand down to her. She grasped his hand and he pulled her atop the horse. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his back and the stallion took off from the stables.

She had never been on a horse before, but she could tell Jace had. Something about it felt freeing, like nothing could touch her. It was the same feeling she'd had when flying the demon energy bike above the city.

It took around two hours to reach the destination Jace had in mind. The ruins of the Wayland manor fell upon them. It seemed that, when the manor went up in flames, the misdirection wards that Valentine had placed had also fallen away.

Looking at the heap of crumbled and burnt stone, Eliza wondered if Fairchild manor looked so similar.

Jace called the horse to a stop and he pulled something from his pockets. A stele and a piece of thread. "Where did you get a stele?" She asked. Clary had lost his the last time they had been at the manor.

"Borrowed it from Alec. Didn't think he'd mind." He admitted. She peered over his shoulder, watching him close the thin piece of stained thread in his hand and carve a rune on the back of his hand.

She sat back, waiting, wondering what he could be seeing. She took the appearance of the estate. It was dreadful post-explosion. It hadn't been too warm the last time she had seen it. Hearing Jace speak so fondly of it, she imagined it had been a beautiful place to grow up.

Jace jolted in front of her. He looked back, satisfaction evident.

"I know where he is."


	30. Chapter 30

The valley seemed like a good place for her to die. It was a lovely place, illuminated by the moon. The little river that cut through the valley floor seemed serene. Maybe she would float away in it.

In its loveliness, there was her despair.

 _And there,_ she thought wistfully, _is home._

It was where it always had been. The cottage, small and tucked under a willow tree.

She was thankful for the jacket, drawing it close as another cool breeze washed over them.

"Come on." Jace got down from the horse and he gently pulled her down. He tied the horse to a tree. She watched him repeat the tracking rune on his hand, tightly holding the bloody thread in his fist. His eyes opened with frustration and he did it again, only with his left hand. "Damn it." He muttered.

She raised her eyebrows. "What is it?"

"I can't see anything. Only darkness."

 _How fitting,_ she thought, _Jonathan is the darkness._

He waved his arm in the air angrily, his fist flying open. They watched as the breeze picked the thread from his open hand and carried it away.

"Great." Jace growled. "Just great. Now what are we going to do?"

"Jace." She said his name softly, her word lost in the breeze. "I know where we are."

He looked over at her, confused and maybe a little surprised. "You do?"

She nodded, just once. "The cottage where I grew up?" She looked back over the valley, her eyes immediately finding the small house. "That's it."

His hand found hers. He squeezed it lightly. "If you want, I can go look around. You don't have to go in."

"Yeah, I do." She resigned. She had hoped that she would never have to step foot in that place again, not after the last time. "I had just hoped you'd never have to see it."

He let her hand go, producing his 'borrowed' stele once again. "I'll do you if you do me." Even in the darkness, she saw the glimmer in his eyes. They took turns Marking each other, agreeing which temporary runes would be most useful. In the end, they had Marked for swiftness, silence, and sure-footing.

Jace pocketed Alec's stele and she put her own back in the little band around her bicep. They made their way in silence. The way down the ridge was painful and steep. Both of them fell countless times. Her hands were soon riddled with scrapes from the loose gravel of the ridge.

They both knelt at the edge of the river, washing their hands. She looked at him, the moonlight casting a fair glow over his golden curls. There was the possibility that Jonathan was inside the cottage. There was the possibility that she'd have to tell Jace the truth. However, Valentine could be the one waiting for them. Her death could be on the other side of the door.

Maybe a part of her had always known she would die in the cottage. The part of her that had wanted to die within the Malachi Configuration.

"Ready?" Jace was standing, looking back at the house with ill-regard.

She didn't reply, she only got to her feet and started walking towards the house. Grey and white stone blended together. The blue paint on the shutters had long since began to peel.

She looked over. Jace was peering through one of the windows. A movement above distracted her and she looked up.

A raven was stretched out in the sky. Dread filled her stomach.

Hugin.

She grabbed Jace and pulled him under the security of the willow tree. She put a finger to her lips and motioned for him to look up. Above them, Hugin was flying around, searching. No doubt, he had already spotted them.

"We're being watched." She whispered. "Hugin has always been Father's spy."

They watched the raven flew down and perched onto one of the windowsills. After a few moments, Hugin called out and flew off.

"Good. He can lead us to him." Jace said. Before she could protest, Jace had grabbed her hand and was pulling her into the night.

* * *

"Do you think Luke's plan worked?" She asked Jace quietly.

Hugin flew above them, wavering through the sky in lazy circles. Sometimes, he would pass over the moon and cast a shadow over them.

 _At least it isn't Munin_ , she reassured herself.

"I hope it did, but you and I both know how the Clave can be. They would rather surrender than fight alongside Downworlders."

She agreed. "I just wished they would realize that they hate Valentine more than they distrust Downworlders. And that if they hand our future over to him, he'll kill us all." They didn't dare speak above a low whisper, in fear of Hugin hearing them.

Next to them, the small river that cut through the valley bed ran quietly. Hugin, wherever he was going, was following the path of the river. She watched the raven disappear into crevice in the wall of the valley.

By the time they made it to the edge of the valley, she was covered in sweat and her knees ached from half-crouching her way through.

"Where'd he go?" Jace's voice was barely audible.

She looked up. If they lost Hugin, they were screwed. For a moment, the sky was clear. All she saw was the moon hanging high in the sky. Hugin appeared once more, a large darkness crossing in front of the moon. The raven flew down, disappearing into a hole in the rocky wall.

Jace's hand closed around hers and he took off running after the bird. It took her a second to catch up to his pace. They stopped as they got to the wall. Beyond the hole, it expanded out into what seemed like a cove.

Jace took out his witchlight stone. With an assuring squeeze to her hand, they stepped in. Just a couple feet inside the mouth, the light extinguished and the only source of light was the faint whitish glow of Jace's witchlight stone.

She wondered just for a second if stepping through the wall had actually brought them to the other side of the valley and not into a small cove. Something above them glittered wondrously, she had never seen the stars shine so bright before. It took a second look to realize that it wasn't the stars of the night sky, rather it was mica deposits sparkling within the rocks.

"Beautiful." She breathed. She looked over at Jace, surprised to see he was already looking at her. "What?" She murmured.

Something glinted in his eyes, but he said nothing. He had opened his mouth, as if there were words he wanted to say, but then closed it promptly and looked ahead of them.

The entrance to what seemed like the cove had led them to a narrow space within the wall. Ahead of them were two tunnels, both shrouded in darkness.

"Which one?" Jace asked her.

Neither of them had seen which tunnel Hugin had chosen. She let her hand fall from his and stepped forward until she was standing in front of the tunnel furthest right. Jace chose the tunnel furthest left.

From her tunnel, she heard nothing. If darkness had a sound, she had heard it from her own. "Voices." Jace said, pointed to his tunnel.

"Out of the dark we came and into the dark we go." She mimicked her own words from so long ago.

Half a smile graced his face. "Haggard, really?"

She smiled back, taking the steps to join him at the mouth of his tunnel. "I found it fitting for our situation."

Jace dimmed his witchlight stone to the point where it only provided the lowest necessary lighting they needed. "We aren't yet in my idea of a situation."

"Give it time." She retorted.

Together, they stepped once more into the dark.

* * *

Her head felt like it was spinning. Between the twists and curves of the tunnel and the raw stench of the area, nausea had been rolling around her stomach.

She didn't know how long she and Jace had spent crawling in the tunnel until it opened into a chamber. Stalactites grew from the ceiling, hanging down on them like swords. Opposite, stalagmites grew up from the smoothed floor, almost in a circular pattern around the edge of the chamber. Patterns were carved into the stone of the floor.

A huge quartz stalagmite was in the center of the chamber. The outer sides of the growth were translucent and the middle of the stalagmite was tinged red from…something. There was something moving within the stalagmite.

Her stomach rolled.

Light filtered down into the chamber from a hole in the ceiling. Somewhere, she heard Hugin's caw.

Jace ducked to the left and she to the right, both hiding behind stalagmites. She saw Jace extinguish his witchlight. She lifted her head, peering around the stalagmite in time to see two tall figures come from the shadows across the chamber. They seemed to be engaged in a quiet conversation, walking to the middle of the chamber.

Her stomach dropped and she ducked back down.

Her brother and father.

Valentine had not changed. He was still large and broad. Black gear covered his body, the Angel's Sword on his back. Weapons were strung on a belt along his waist. Some of them, she realized, were not proper Shadowhunter weapons. Knives used for hunting and skinning things. Knowing the things she knew, she wasn't surprised. Only disgusted.

Jonathan looked like his true self, the way she remembered him. He looked slim and small standing next to their father, dressed in his own gear. His hair was no longer the dyed black he had used to impersonate Sebastian. It was the same fair blonde, almost white, as her own hair. A sword hung at his side and she instinctively reached back to make sure _Eosphoros_ was still with her.

If Jace hadn't recognized the resemblance before, surely he would then. Jonathan and Eliza were clearly twins. There were too many similarities between them. The hair, the eye shape, the nose, the cheekbones.

Hugin swooped down from above and landed gracefully on Valentine's shoulder. Valentine regarding whatever Jonathan was saying, nodding thoughtfully while running his hand along Hugin's feathers.

"Has there been word from the city?" Jonathan asked. Hugin took off from Valentine's shoulder, circling into the air.

"Nothing of importance." Valentine replied. His voice was smooth and unbothered. He hadn't heard of surrender and he hadn't heard of a fight. They were still in the middle of a waiting game, thousands of lives at stake. "I do know that the Clave has begun to ally itself with whatever Downworlders Lucian has brought forth."

She and Jace looked at each other. Her heart surged. Finally, the Clave had made the right choice.

"Malachi assured us of otherwise." Jonathan stated. Something in his words felt forced. Valentine, his words growing agitated, said that Malachi had failed them. Jonathan reached, placing his hand on their father's shoulder. "You're upset." Jonathan observed. There was a range of closeness in his words that only he held with his father.

"Indeed." Valentine said. "The Clave is more corroded than I had realized. The corruption has spread from the Lightwoods, as I so feared. I had hoped that the Forsaken would keep the Lightwoods from returning to our country, but they yet again slipped through my grasp. And Lucian…they have given him a seat on the Council and his words have poisoned their mind." Valentine stood still, making no move to get away from his son. "I wanted to avoid battle, but I see no other option for us now."

Something like amusement flashed on Jonathan's face. "Think about it. Think of them, preparing for battle and hoping to win. Once they get to Brocelind Plain, they will realize that it has all been in vain. Imagine how they will look." A grin spread on his face. It was the same grin he had worn when ordering Hugin and Munin to tear training dummies to pieces. It was a foul smile he wore and it was one he wore too often.

"Jonathan." Their father sighed. She saw Jace tense, his back straightening. "This is not something to find amusement in. Battle is an ugly necessity, a necessity I wanted to avoid."

"I believe it's better that I enjoy my tasks." Jonathan responded in a cool voice. "After all, I enjoyed the time I spent in the Glass City. I expected less from the Lightwood family than what I received. I certainly had quite the time with their daughter, Isabelle." A breathy laugh escaped him. "And Clarissa, she wasn't at all what I expected. She is nothing like me. She is more like Eliza than I thought." There was an irritation in his voice she didn't like.

"Yes, as I warned you she would be. Clarissa is just like her mother. And as for Eliza, there is no hope for her any more. She is lost, better off to us dead, I believe." She was nothing, a secondary thought. The same thing she had always been to him. Nothing compared to his boys, always living in the shadow of them.

"On the contrary, I should think." Jonathan said. Valentine looked at him, an eyebrow arched. He asked what he meant. "I think that Clarissa will come around and as for Eliza…I believe there is hope for her yet. What you wished for her, for us, I've seen it in her eyes. With some convincing, we could have both of them." Valentine asked him to elaborate. "Tricking her, of course. It was the most fun I've had in a long time."

"That wasn't what I meant." Valentine snapped. "Besides, you weren't supposed to be off enjoying yourself. The task I gave you was to find out what she was searching for. And when she found it, you allowed her to put it in the hands of warlock scum. Not to mention that you were supposed to bring her with you when you left the city. I must say, you and Eliza have more in common than I originally thought. You have both failed me."

She sucked in a breath, fighting off a laugh. It must have been her brother's worst nightmare come to life, being aligned next to her in their father's eyes. He had always prided himself on being the favorite.

"I tried!" Jonathan growled. She half-expected him to stomp his foot on the ground. "They watch her like a hawk and I doubt even _I_ could have pulled off kidnapping her right in the middle of the Hall of Accords." Always so sure of himself. "Anyway, I told you. She has absolutely no clue how to properly use her power. She doesn't seem to pose any true threat to us."

How wrong he was. If only he knew Clary a little better.

"She is at the very center of whatever the Clave has planned. Hugin has told me. He watched her, saw her stand before everyone in the Hall. If Clarissa has shown the Clave what she can do, she is a threat."

Clary, as untrained as she was, was much stronger than anyone originally believed her to be. On numerous counts, she had risen to the occasion. Eliza felt a strong surge of pride in being able to call Clary her little sister.

"That means they will fight. Isn't that what we want?" Jonathan asked. "And Clarissa doesn't matter. The battle matters." Valentine stated that Jonathan was clearly underestimating her. "I don't think so." Jonathan told him. "I spent a considerable amount of time with her. If she truly knew how to harness her power, she would have used it to get that bloodsucker of hers out of prison. Perhaps she could have even used it to save Starkweather from his untimely demise."

Annoyance flashed across their father's face. "Jonathan, you might want to consider reigning yourself in when it comes to Hodge Starkweather's death, considering you were the cause."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed. "He was about to reveal to them information on the Angel. I was forced to kill him."

Valentine let out a crisp laugh. "Forced? That's new. You wanted the kill, much as you always have." He pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and stretched them over his hands. "There is no way to know what Hodge would have revealed to them, especially not now. Hodge was one of the very few people I trusted with my secret, one of the few who had the knowledge that there was more than one boy. And as for his betrayal, he was always too weak for that."

"No one cares about Hodge." Jonathan said dismissively. "Are you about to leave for the lake?" He asked. Valentine nodded curtly, asking if Jonathan was clear of his instructions. He nodded his head towards Jonathan's sword. "Be sure to use that. It's demonic enough for your task."

"Why can I not go with you to the lake? We should release our force upon them now." Jonathan seemed to be almost whining. He had never liked not getting his way.

"I said midnight and I'll honor my word. They still have time to make the right choice and surrender." Jonathan began to speak but Valentine cut him off. "At midnight, if you haven't heard from Malachi, open the gate." Jonathan stared back at him. "You _have_ to do this, Jonathan. I cannot stand back and wait. I must be at the lake by midnight and I refuse to let the battle last long enough to wait on me getting there. It is imperative for the future generations of Shadowhunters to see how quickly the Clave fell against us."

The petulant look on Jonathan's face vanished. It was replaced by something forlorn, but she saw the malice that lingered underneath. "I'm sorry to miss the summoning, then. I'd hoped to see it, but I see now that this is more important."

The hairs on the back of her neck rose when Valentine placed his hand on Jonathan's cheek. It was a tender touch, one wasted on his son. Neither of them spoke as Valentine began walking away from him, back to where they had come in. "I promise you, Jonathan, one day you shall see the Angel himself. When I have passed on, you will inherit the Mortal Instruments and have the power to summon him yourself."

"Thank you." Was all Jonathan said as Valentine disappeared back into the shadows. It only took a few moments for the malice to fully extend itself on his face once their father had gone. "I know you're here, Jace. Come on out."

Eliza looked at Jace, her eyes wide. Jace moved fast, jumping to his feet and launching himself towards the tunnel. Jonathan was faster, much faster than him. He had stretched himself, blocking access to the tunnel. "Surely you didn't believe you were faster than me."

Jace jerked to a stop. "I am better than you, at everything." He replied.

"Is she here with you? Eliza, I mean. The two of you are…inseparable." He sneered. She cursed under her breath. She stood, emerging from her hiding spot. "Ah, there you are. I'm sure Valentine would have been so glad to know you were here. He could have given a message to the leech you love so much."

Her heart seemed to slow down. "Simon?" Jace asked.

Jonathan's eyes darkened. "Oh no." He grinned. He looked right at her. "I believe his name is Declan? Valentine has plans for his death tonight."

Maybe her heart stopped. She lunged for him, but Jace got to her first. He grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her back.

"How do you know all this?" Jace asked him. "Is it because you're dating our dad?"

He was standing between her and Jonathan, half shielding her, half holding her back.

 _Magnus, is Declan in Alicante?_ She hoped he knew. He was close with Declan, they had been friends for a long time.

 _Yes, little dove. We both are. Where are you?_

She felt her heart drop, falling to her feet. He was going to kill them. Both he and Jonathan had promised her that Magnus and Declan would die. And now they would. With both her father and brother in the same vicinity as two of the Downworlders she cared most about, it was sure to happen.

"You think…?" Jonathan's voice trailed into quiet and empty laughter. It only lasted a few seconds before he regained himself, staring back at Jace. "There have been several times when you've crossed my mind." He sighed, his dark eyes glinting. There was, though, an admitting softness in his voice. "Sometimes, you almost seem to possess some amount of intelligence. Much more than the dim-wits you consider your adoptive family." It was Eliza who had to hold Jace back this time. Standing behind him, she held tightly to his biceps to keep him in place. "However, I see it has been a façade, only the way you carry yourself and not at all a true glimpse of yourself. You've proven to be just as ridiculous as everyone else, no matter your upbringing."

"What the hell do you know about my upbringing?" Jace demanded.

"Jace." She said his name softly, fervently.

Jonathan's eyes slid over to her. In them she recognized a coldness. It was taunting and humored. "Oh, my." Jonathan murmured. "If you must know, the same man who raised you, also raised me. Yet, he didn't discard me like an unwanted dog after ten years."

She heard Jace suck in a breath. "I don't understand." Jace whispered. He turned his head, looking back at Eliza.

In that moment, her web of lies had unraveled. It was done, over. She felt lighter, Atlas with the world finally lifted from his shoulders.

And it all came barreling back down.

Jace said nothing to her. Either he truly didn't see what was so plainly in front of him or he did and was wrought with denial. He had so firmly planted his belief in being Valentine's son, in being her brother, that the truth was not _his_ truth.

"Valentine is your father." He said dully, staring back at Jonathan. "You're my brother."

Jonathan moved just as fast, maybe faster. He had his sword out. Leveled not towards Jace, but Eliza. "Look what you've done, Eliza." He clucked his tongue.

"Let her go." Jace ordered.

A terrible smile graced her brother's face. "She brought it on herself. She'll pay for what she's done. One way or another." He brought the sword down, slamming the butt of it against her head.

* * *

When she awoke, she was bound. Her back was pressed against one of the stalagmites, her hands bound behind her. Her head throbbed and she vaguely remembered Jonathan hitting her with his sword.

Just a few feet away, Jace was in the same position she was, unconscious. Jonathan stood away from them, a long piece of rope in his hands.

"Is he dead?" She rasped, calling his attention.

"No. I made sure to stop before he could die." He was telling the truth, she could feel it. "Was it your idea or his to find me?"

She leaned her head against the stone. "His. But I didn't object. You did try to kill us all."

Jace stirred, coughing. She looked over at him. There was a stain of blood on the corner of his mouth. "Little brother is awake." Jonathan simpered. He knelt down in front of Jace, toying with the rope.

Jace spit blood to the ground. "Why didn't you kill me?" He asked. "Waiting for something special like Christmas?"

Jonathan cut his eyes. "Where did you get your smart mouth from? Definitely not Father. I also see that he didn't teach you to fight much either, or you would be more of an opponent for me." Jonathan grew closer to Jace. "When I was nine, I didn't receive a material gift from my father from my birthday. Instead, he taught me a lesson. He showed me a special place on a man's back. If you get the blade just right, sinking it through that place can strike the heart as well as sever the spine." He grinned. "What did he give you, his sweet angel son? Another spaghetti bath? A cake?"

The corner of Jace's mouth twitched and he swallowed. "Where was he hiding you? I don't recall you hanging around the manor and Liz didn't seem to know you either."

Jonathan looked over at her. She closed her eyes briefly, not wanting to open them again. "Our sister is quite the liar, one might call it a preordained gift." He moved to kneel in front of her. He reached, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear delicately. "She fooled you once, making you believe she was related to that fool Hodge Starkweather. When she's caught up in one of her webs, she turns into quite the actress. She did pretend that we were strangers perfectly."

She choked back a series of curses. She jerked her head away from Jonathan's hand, but he grabbed her hair, forcing her to look at Jace. His jaw was set firmly.

"Look at her. She's weak." Jonathan snarled. "So easily influenced by a simple threat. She lies and lies and lies, she'll never stop. If only she would have told you the truth, maybe little Max would still be alive. His blood is on her hands." She squeezed her eyes shut, hot tears springing. She wished she were dead. She wanted him to kill her. When she opened them, the tears rolled down her cheeks. "See? She's even crying. She knows I'm right."

Jace stared back at her, tawny eyes wide.

She jerked, turning her face towards Jonathan's hand holding her hair. She lurched forward and opened her mouth. Her teeth sank into the soft flesh of his wrist. He jerked and shouted out, trying to yank his wrist away. With each movement, her teeth bit down further. She finally released, blood trickling down her lip and staining her teeth.

Eliza looked up at him, a satisfied smile on her face. "Bitch." He hissed. He reared his hand back and smacked her with an unholy amount of force.

Her face seared with pain.

"You're right." Jace said suddenly, drawing Jonathan's attention away. Both of them turned to him. "It's her fault. Everything wrong is because of her. Valentine got the Mortal Instruments because she failed to stop him. Max is dead because of her lies, whatever they are. She's weak and she's a failure."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Jace, sweet and guarded, who had just been saying wonderful things to her the night before, was verbally decimating her. And in her heart, she knew it was true. She knew she deserved it.

Jonathan grinned at Jace. "That's the spirit. Let me add to it for you. Did she tell you that she knew about you? Valentine loved to talk about you."

Jace shook his head. "She said that she knew about me. I think we covered the whole lying-about-knowing-you part already."

Her brother seemed entirely amused with Jace's newfound dislike of her. "Right, of course." Jonathan nodded thoughtfully. "You know some things, but not everything. Not yet." He stood up straight, looking down on Jace. "Watch carefully, my little brother. Watch and you shall see."

He took the sword from its sheath again, moving impossibly fast. She recognized its silver hilt and the pattern of falling stars that decorated the blade. _Phaesphoros_

Jonathan's cold laugh echoed through the room. With only the grace a Shadowhunter could have, Jonathan moved to the center of the chamber, standing next to the red colored stalagmite. She saw whatever was inside of it begin to move faster the nearer he was. He spoke something from a demonic language she didn't recognize and lifted the blade over his head. He swung down.

The top part of the stalagmite fell away to the ground. From inside, the black and red substance- smoke, she realized- flew up with a roar.

Her ears popped and her chest compressed. She struggled with her bindings, trying to get to air she couldn't reach.

The column of smoke swirled up towards the hole in the ceiling. "Keep watching!" Jonathan shouted at them. His hair flew back from the smoke's wind and his black eyes seemed unnaturally bright. "This is Valentine's army!"

Whatever he had said next, if there was anything, had been lost in the roar of the column of smoke coming from the stalagmite.

 _Demons. Those are the demons_.

She heard howls and shrieks, the sounds of claws scraping and teeth clacking. From the void they came and into the night they went. Her nose burned raw from the awful stench of demons. Death in its purest form.

She looked away from the mass exodus of Valentine's demonic force. The sound subsided quickly and an eerily peaceful silence took over the chamber.

"They're gone." Jonathan told them.

She looked back. He was sitting over top Jace. "I don't think it's midnight yet." Jace croaked. "He said midnight."

Jonathan looked to the sky and then back at Jace. "I've found it more appealing to ask forgiveness rather than permission. They'll be to Brocelind Plain in about five minutes, give or take. Before Father will get to the lake, I'm certain. The Nephilim should shed blood for this. It's the least they can do, to die writhing in pain, overcome by demons."

There it was, his unquenchable need to inflict pain, cause harm, spill blood. It was never the cruel upbringing that had been the issue, it was the demon blood tarnishing his own. It had stripped his humanity completely and turned him into something horrible. Valentine had wanted a super-warrior, but he had gotten an abomination.

"You act as if they're utterly unprepared." Jace noted.

Jonathan waved the thought aside. "Were you here to spy or to have a family reunion? Have you no idea what my father plans to do?" He asked. Jace remained silent, only observing him with dark eyes. "You proved useful when you led me to Hodge at the Gard. Without you, I would never have uncovered that the Mortal Glass was actually Lake Lyn. Because of you, this night has become possible. Do you know how?" Again, Jace said nothing. Jonathan looked at Eliza, his eyebrows raised. "He isn't very bright." He told her. "But you, you know. You know what this means."

She wished she didn't. She had known for a long time, as long as she could remember. It was part of the mission, their father's mission. "The one who possesses the Cup and the Sword of the Angel can stand before the Mirror and summon from it our Angel Raziel. They are granted the power of which Jonathan Shadowhunter had. And when you summon the Angel, you are graced with the ability to ask of him one thing. An answer to a question, a task, a favor. Anything." She, without hesitation, repeated the words that Valentine had forever placed in her memory. A recitation every day for years had given the words permanent residence in her mind.

"So, what? Valentine is going to summon the Angel and ask him to make sure the Shadowhunters are defeated at Brocelind Plain?" Jace asked. "That seems anticlimactic."

Jonathan got up, moving away from him hastily. "Hardly. When my father summons the Angel, he will ask for one thing. He will ask that all Nephilim who have not sworn their allegiance to him, those who have not drunk from the Mortal Cup, be stripped of their angelic blessing. With that, they will no longer be Nephilim, yet they will still bear the Marks." His voice dropped low. Jonathan wore another smile. "Forsaken. The demons will tear them to pieces and the Downworlders will be destroyed."

The mass genocide of all Shadowhunters was never what Valentine had wanted. She knew that much. He only wanted to get rid of those who would never side with him. But from the conversation she had overheard, it seemed like everyone had decided to fight against him. There would be a very select few who were already on his side, those would be the ones to survive.

"He wouldn't." Jace said slowly. "He can't."

"He will. This has been my father's plan for so long. He _will_ see it through." Jonathan insisted.

Jace looked up at him. "Our father." He corrected.

She saw the look Jonathan gave him. She felt bad for Jace in that moment, but was glad to once not be on the receiving end of it. "Excuse me?"

"You keep saying 'my' father, but he's our father."

Jonathan's face seemed to go blank, only for a fleeting moment. The corners of his mouth almost drew into another smile. "Oh, you little angel boy." Jonathan chided. "You are just as Father always said, a hopeless fool."

She rested her head against the stalagmite. Behind her, she worked her hands, hoping that some how she could slip a hand from the binding. If she could surprise him, she might be able to take him. Except, she was certain that she was only tearing the skin from her wrists and not actually getting anywhere.

"Why do you keep calling me 'little angel boy'? Are you hitting on me or something?"

She saw the brief flash of annoyance and anger cross her brother's face. "You are completely unaware of everything, aren't you? Has anyone ever told you the truth?" He looked at Eliza. "Well, for what it's worth, you can pull off your little lies and you do know how to keep your mouth shut."

"What if you were the one he was lying to?" Jace questioned him.

That seemed to hit Jonathan somewhere deep. "He wouldn't dare lie to me. I am his flesh and blood. His legacy. When he goes, I will take his place."

Father's favorite. The favorite son, the favorite child. "Are you sure that's something you want to boast about? Being his legacy and all."

"Always. I'm not disgusted or afraid that Father does what he must to save his people. I may not think that they deserve to be saved, but he does and he is willing to do what is necessary to do it. I don't have to ask him which of us is the better son, which he is more proud to claim. Wouldn't you too want the son who is proud of you over the one who is afraid of you?"

Jace swallowed. "I'm not afraid of him."

"And you're right not to be. But you should most definitely be afraid of me." Jonathan lowered his sword, resting the tip of it to Jace's throat.

Eliza stilled, watching them. "Stop." She said. Jonathan stared at Jace, that familiar evil in his eyes. "You promised me." She told him. "You promised me that you wouldn't hurt him."

When he finally looked at her, he seemed almost dejected. "I never promised." He reminded her. "I only said I would hurt him if I had to. Luckily, I don't see the need. He poses no threat to me. He only bothers me, like an insect."

"If you don't think I'm a threat, untie my hands." Jace told him. "What are you afraid of?"

Jonathan was still. She didn't think he was even really breathing. He looked like a statue, regal and stone cold. "You can't bait me into a fight, I'm not stupid. Besides, I said I wouldn't hurt you. I never said I wouldn't kill you." She felt her heart stop. "I kept you alive so you could see the gloriousness of the demon force. Now, you may die and when you see your angels, tell them that they are no longer needed here. They have failed and now, we are saved by Valentine."

Jace raised his eyebrows. "You want to kill me so I can deliver a message to God? What the hell is going on in your head?"

She watched Jonathan press the blade deeper to Jace's throat. "Kill me. Kill me instead!" She thrashed against the bindings.

"Liz!" Jace gasped.

Jonathan gave her a look of perplexity she had never seen on him before. "Little sister."

She went still. "Kill me, Jonathan. I know you, I know that you're itching to kill something, anything. I feel it sometimes too. Jace hasn't done anything wrong to you. None of this is his fault, it's mine. You said so yourself." Her chest heaved. "You promised you'd kill me, remember? We were fourteen, we sparred, I won. You woke me up that night, a knife to my throat. You made me a promise that night. Make good on it now."

He didn't move. The sword stayed even, placed at the base of Jace's throat. "Your time will come, little sister, I swear to you. Father has special plans for you and I won't let him miss the fun in letting you suffer. Which, begins now."

 _No, no, no_.

There had to be something she could do, anything. He couldn't kill Jace. Not Jace. She was ready to die, more than ready. Especially in the place of the person she loved most.

"Will you give our father a message for me?" Jace asked Jonathan. He hesitated but said that he would. Jace regarded him carefully. "No, you won't. You lied."

Jonathan said that was ridiculous. "You hesitated." Eliza told her brother. "Remember, I'm the liar between us."

"You wouldn't give him the message because you don't want him to know you killed me." Jace went on. "He didn't tell you to kill me and you know how displeased he'll be if you do."

He was right. Valentine, for whatever it was worth, liked to have Jace. She didn't know what exactly drew him to Jace, but she was fine with it so long as it kept Jace alive.

"You mean nothing to him." Jonathan hissed.

"You can't hide it from him, killing me. He'll know. You may be able to lie and tell him that I died during the battle, but he'll figure out what happened. He always does."

Jonathan shook his head. "You're wrong." His face was drawn together, his mouth a firm line.

"There are witnesses. Eliza will tell him."

"Then I'll kill her too!"

Jace was pressing buttons she didn't even know Jonathan had. How was it that she had spent seventeen years of her life with Jonathan but Jace seemed to know him better?

"I said _witnesses_. As in, multiple."

Jonathan's eyes widened with surprise. "Who else?"

Eliza smiled. "Hugin." She breathed. "You mean Hugin."

Jace nodded. "The raven has been here the whole time, lingering in the shadows. He'll tell Valentine everything, just like he always does."

Jonathan looked up. His dark eyes searched the shadows but seemed to find nothing. However, doubt was written all over his face when he looked back at Jace.

"I can hardly imagine the disgust he would feel towards you once he realized that you murdered me while I was defenseless, tied up and unable to fight back." Jace speculated. His voice dropped. "Valentine would never forgive you. Not for that." With those words, with his voice that way, he sounded exactly like him. Jonathan stared him down. His upper lip twitched and his eyes seemed darker than usual. "You know that it's the only way." Jace continued. "Untie me and fight me. Don't be a coward."

Jonathan's entire mouth twitched. His eyes narrowed and he raised his sword. The moonlight reflected against it, sending shards of light everywhere. His mouth curled into a snarl.

"NO!" She screamed as he brought the sword down, the blade whistling.


	31. Chapter 31

"I'm going to kill him." Jonathan told her.

She swallowed, looking at him. "You're underestimating him." But even she didn't believe her words. He had cut Jace's ropes after he'd passed out.

He had moved them outside to the valley, just near the cottage. She was still tied up, her arms bound behind her. Somehow, in a way only Jonathan could have pulled off, he had managed to carry Jace and make sure she didn't run. What he hadn't comprehended was that she never would have left Jace alone with him.

The grass underneath her was soft and cool. The moon granted them a fair amount of light, even though some of it was blocked by the trees.

Jonathan chuckled. "You love him." He observed. "That's good." He knelt down, brushing the hair from her face. "What you've done, the mistake you made in betraying Father and siding against us, there is only one way to fix it."

"Don't touch me." She hissed. "Get away."

His lips spread into a close-lipped smile. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look back at him. "Little sister, you're going to pay for what you've done. You're going to watch as I kill the boy you love. You're going to sit here, utterly helpless, while all those you care about are slaughtered by Father's army. The Lightwoods, the half-breed warlock, that bloodsucker of yours, all of them are going to die and it will be because of you." He whistled under his breath. "And then, because I know somewhere in there that you aren't completely stupid, you're going to join us again. I know you, I've seen it, you admitted to it."

She inhaled sharply. "You think that I'd come back after you've slaughtered everyone I love? Jonathan, the only thing that I can promise you is that if you do this, I _will_ kill you."

He laughed quietly, shaking his head. "You'll come back. Even if it's only because you'll have nowhere else to go. Soon, you'll succumb to your true self."

He flung her head to the side, letting her go. She saw Jace stirring, his eyes fluttering open. He pressed his hand to his face and then twitched, looking at his hand with confusion.

"Your continuous fainting is growing old." Jonathan told him. Jace glanced between them, saying nothing. "Stand up." Jonathan ordered. "I'm giving you five seconds before I kill you."

Her blood went cold as she watched Jace struggle to get to his feet. She rubbed her wrists together, trying to find a way out of the ropes. "Why out here?" Jace asked. "Why bother moving me?"

Jonathan held up two fingers. "I liked knocking you out and there would be dire consequences to getting your blood in the cavern." He paused. "And trust me, little brother, I'll make sure you bleed."

Jace's hands felt at his belt. She frowned. He didn't have any weapons. Jonathan had taken them, but when? Jace pulled a dagger from his belt, looking down at it. She knew it wouldn't be a fair match against Jonathan's sword.

"Not a good weapon you've got there." Jonathan pointed out.

Jace nodded. "I don't think I can fight with this." His voice shook, words uneven and frantic.

Jonathan said that really was a shame. He strode towards Jace, his grip on his sword uncaring. Jace reared back, socking Jonathan right in the face.

She heard the crunching sound of bone against bone. Jonathan fell back into the dirt. His sword went up in the air and Jace lurched, catching it by the hilt. He stood over Jonathan, the blade pointed down to her brother's chest.

She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She saw a stream of blood coming from Jonathan's nose as he pushed aside his collar, showing his pale neck. "Get it over with and kill me."

It only took a second. A brief moment in time where Jace hesitated before raising the sword. The hesitation was all it took for Jonathan to spring up, backflipping into the air and landing with catlike ease. He jutted his leg out, kicking Jace's hand. The sword went flying once again and Jonathan caught it with a maniacal laugh. He swung the sword dangerously close to Jace's chest. He barely avoided the hit but the blade had caught the front of his shirt. She leaned forward, spotting blood on the front of Jace.

 _He's going to kill him,_ she told herself. _Jonathan is going to kill him._

She moved her hands vigorously behind her back. He had tied the knot intricately. He had even been sure to take her knives from her braces. But, she realized, he hadn't found the knife slipped under her belt. She didn't remember putting it there when they'd left that morning. How long had that been there? No doubt it was left behind from some long-ago hunt.

Jace leapt into the air, grabbing onto a tree branch that had to be at least twenty feet in the air. He swung himself over the branch and knelt on it. He aimed the dagger, throwing it down at Jonathan. But he had already jumped into the air, landing on the branch next to Jace.

She worked, trying to slip the knife from under her belt. Her hands weren't loose enough to bend to get it. Close, but not close enough. She grimaced, feeling the slim hilt and the thin blade, but it wouldn't budge. She bit down on her lip, closing her eyes tightly. She heard her wrist crack and she felt the knife in her hand.

She moved quickly, sawing the blade against the ropes until she felt them go slack. The ropes fell to the ground quietly and she rubbed her wrist, fighting off a groan. A Healing rune later would fix that.

She saw both of the boys on the tree branch above her. Jonathan lunged at Jace and they both fell. They landed on the ground away from her, clawing at each other. She heard Jonathan shout and saw him smack Jace's face. The two of them rolled half into the river.

Jace got on top of him, closing his hands around his throat. Jonathan grabbed Jace's wrist, snapping it back. Jace's scream chilled her to the core and he fell backward.

"Jonathan!" She heard herself shout out. He didn't look back to her. "Jonathan!" She tried again, more force in her voice. She felt something begin to take over inside of her. The darkness, the demon blood. "JONATHAN!"

Her eyes had gone completely black, an abyss as dark as the one demons crawled from.

Her shout had caused both of them to look over at her. She leaned over, plucking Jonathan's discarded sword from the dirt. She strutted towards them, his sword in her left hand and her knife in her right.

Jonathan moved fast. He put himself on top of Jace, his knee resting on his chest, Jace's dagger in his hand. He positioned it right over Jace's heart. "Come any closer, little sister, and he dies. He'll die and never know the truth."

She stopped, just a few feet in front of them. The truth? It was all she had ever wanted to give him.

"You're not going to kill him." She told him.

"And why is that? Are _you_ going to stop me?" She said yes. Jonathan chuckled. "You've been trying to hurt me for years. You've failed time and time again. Forgive me for not being afraid of you."

She gripped the knife so hard her knuckles were turning white. _Please_. She narrowed her eyes, focusing on Jonathan's chest. Right at the heart. She let the knife go. It flew through the air and she could have closed her eyes, knowing it would hit its mark.

She never missed.

Her breath caught. Jonathan was holding the knife in his hand, a wicked smile on his face. She exhaled. "You missed." He said.

Almost lazily, he launched the knife from his grip. It landed in her abdomen. She fell to her knees, pain burning through her. Jonathan's sword fell from her hand, clattering into the dirt. She wrapped her hand around the hilt of the knife.

"Lizzie!" Jace shouted.

Jonathan looked down at him. "Take comfort in the fact that you won't have to watch her die, Wayland. I'll kill her after you're dead."

"That isn't my last name and you know it." She heard Jace say.

Every piece of her was screaming to take the knife from her stomach, but she knew that she couldn't. She'd bleed to death and she wasn't too keen on brushing that experience again. As much as it hurt, the knife had to stay in.

Blood slicked her hand as she held it in place.

"It's as much your name as Morgenstern is." Jonathan snapped. She watched him lean towards Jace, their faces only inches apart. "I know Eliza is a skilled liar but you couldn't have honestly believed that you were Valentine's true son?" She tried to stand but fell back to her knees. "You absolute fool. You wailing, miserable, worthless piece of space. You aren't fit to bear the Morgenstern name. You aren't worthy of calling yourself my brother."

She groaned out. He wasn't supposed to be the one to let the truth out. She had to do it. She had spun the web, she had to be the one to unravel it. "Jonathan, please." But he didn't hear her. The words were quiet, washed over by the sound of the river.

"Father ripped into a dead woman to save your pathetic life. But you were one of his experiments, you had to be rescued, I suppose. He did everything he could for you, but you were never good enough to be his son, to be any real use to him. Not like me. You were too soft to be a warrior." Harsh, cruel, malicious words. Words that had done their job and done it well. "He faked his death and sent you to the Lightwoods as a decoy. You're nothing to him."

She stopped. The pain was too much. Against her better judgement, she ripped the knife from her abdomen. The blood flow was steady, pouring from between her fingers.

"That means…Are you…?" Jace whispered.

She looked at them, pressing her hand against her stomach. She used her other hand to pick the knife up from the ground.

"Yes. I'm his son." Jonathan smiled. "I'm the real Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern. I'm Eliza's twin brother."

Even from a distance, she heard Jace's sharp intake of breath. "I don't have demon blood in me. It's you."

"Oh, yes."

With a grimace, she managed to get to her feet. Her legs felt week and wobbled under her weight, but she stood.

"I had to hear about you all the time." Jonathan continued. "When I wasn't hearing what a disgrace my sister was, I was listening to my father talk about your soft nature and your fragile heart. My God, you cried when that damn bird died. It isn't hard to see why he's ashamed to have raised you."

Valentine, ashamed of Jace? Never. Even she knew better. As much as he hated to admit, Valentine cared about Jace. He cared in a way he had never seemed to care about her and she was his flesh and blood.

"You're wrong." Jace's voice was strong. "He's ashamed of you. He didn't take you to Lake Lyn because you were needed here. He didn't take you because you're an abomination and to take you in front of the Angel would be sinful. He may love you, but he hates you."

She made it to the edge of the river, her hand numb from holding the knife so hard. She staggered back as Jonathan plunged the dagger into Jace's chest. Jace screamed out.

Jonathan's eyes slid over to her. "You did this." He told her. "You know that, don't you?"

This was a nightmare, it had to be. She had seen this before, on Valentine's ship. Agramon had shown it to her. Who knew the Demon of Fear doubled as a seer of the future?

"Jonathan, what have you done?" She whispered. Tears stung her eyes.

He grinned, turning his attention back to Jace. "Isn't it terrible, Wayland? All this time, you've been in love with my sister and you believed that you were her brother. I bet it killed you, believing that. I've seen the way you watch her, I can only imagine how heavy the shame of your feelings must have been. Maybe if you had been smarter, or hadn't trusted her pretty face, you could have made a life with her." He applied more pressure to the knife, sinking it deeper. "Look at her." He used his free hand, forcing Jace to look at Eliza. "She's crying, for you. My sister loves you. And now, she's going to watch you die."

She stumbled towards them, shoving Jonathan away from Jace. She knelt over him, her hand wavering over the knife. One of her tears fell on his cheek.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She whispered. His eyes rolled back in his head.

She looked at Jonathan, half-sitting up, watching them with a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes. She forgot about the pain in her stomach, Jace fell back from her mind. All she knew was that she had a knife and he had nothing.

She lunged, knocking him back. His dark eyes widened. "There it is." He breathed. "The real you."

Her free hand wrapped around his throat, her nails digging into the skin. She held the knife over his chest. "I want to kill you. I want to watch the light fade from your disgusting eyes and I want to hear you take your last breath."

He grabbed her wrist, forcing it back. It bent, slowly but surely, towards her own chest. Something wrapped around his wrist, gold and shimmering. She gasped. The thin cord moved around his wrist and his hand fell from the knife. And then, his hand fell to the ground. She stared, her mind blank.

 _What the f-?_

"Need a hand?" A familiar voice called.

She looked up. Isabelle was standing over them. Her electrum whip was covered in Jonathan's blood, her hand on her hip with satisfaction. Jonathan's eyes were locked on his stumped wrist.

"That's for my little brother, you piece of shit." Isabelle snarled.

Jonathan's lip curled. "You stupid bitch." He shoved Eliza off him, jumping to his feet. Isabelle lashed at him again with her whip. He narrowly avoided being hit, running off to the tree line. He disappeared into the darkness.

"Liz, oh my God." Isabelle sank to her knees. She put her hands over the stab wound on her stomach.

"No. No." Eliza pushed her away. "Jace. Jace needs you." She had to practically shove Isabelle away from her. "You have to help him."

Isabelle rushed to Jace, getting her stele out. She swore that she heard Jace say something like Isabelle's name. "It'll be okay. I promise."

Eliza barely managed to move to Jace's other side. She put a bloody hand on his face, looking over at Izzy. "How- Why are you here?" She asked.

Izzy's stele was flowing easily over Jace's chest. "Jace, I'm not sure if you know, but you aren't Valentine's son." Eliza assured her that he knew. "Right, good. I know you practically begged us not to look for you guys in the note you left, and I didn't plan to. But then we found out that you weren't Valentine's son and I couldn't let you die without knowing the truth." Her words ran together, her voice fast and fervent. "I got Magnus to help me. I gave him that little toy soldier you gave to Max and-." Her voice broke off. She took a minute to compose herself. "I just told him that Alec insisted and he and Alec are on _really_ good terms right now. Anyway, Magnus set up the Portal and-."

Isabelle was lifted from the ground, her scream cutting through the air. She flew through the air, her whip falling away from her. Jonathan stood in front of her, his wrist bandaged. His foot connected with her chest as she reached for her whip. Isabelle went sailing back, landing roughly on her side with a painful cry.

He picked up her whip, kicking her again.

Eliza reached, picking up Isabelle's stele. She half-assed a poorly made _iratze_ and dropped the tool to the ground as she stood. Jace grabbed her ankle and she looked down. "Finish him."

She nodded once. She plucked the knife from the ground and sauntered toward Jonathan.

"Big brother." She called out.

He turned to her. He hated being called that. He always had. "Why won't you die?" He growled.

She lunged at him, the knife firm and high. He grabbed her by the shoulder, flipping her to the ground. She landed hard on her back, the breath knocked out of her. She gasped for breath.

He used Isabelle's whip, curling it around her throat. "Father wanted me to wait, drag your death out, but I think your time has come."

She clawed at the whip, trying to pull it from her throat. The harder she tried, the tighter he seemed to pull it. She couldn't breathe.

He was going to kill her. Just like she thought, she'd die in the valley. And it would be because of her brother.

Somewhere, far away, she could hear Isabelle screaming. She could hear her brother's taunting and hollow laugh. Her nails dug into the skin of her throat, trying to loosen the whip.

She didn't want the last thing she saw to be Jonathan. What a horrible last image that would leave her with. She turned her head to the side. Jace. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw before leaving the world.

But he wasn't there.

Jonathan pulled tighter on the whip. She felt blood welling under the cord and wondered if he meant to cut her head off.

She saw Jace staggering towards them, his dagger in his hand. Blood was all over his chest and face.

"Now that I think about it, Father won't be displeased with your death. He'll reward me. He'll be glad to have you off his hands. I'll tell him, assure him that he isn't losing a soldier. You were never what he wanted. You were a waste of his time and energy. The world will be better off without-."

"Do it." She gurgled.

He raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowed. "What?"

She watched Jace, standing behind Jonathan with the dagger in his hand. "Finish him."

He did. Jace plunged the dagger into Jonathan's back.

Her brother fell forward, the whip falling from his hand. It loosened around her neck and she yanked the cord from her throat. She gasped, taking in a deep breath.

Her brother's face went slack.

Jonathan slowly turned to Jace. His mouth fell open and his knees buckled. He fell to the ground next to her. He went into the river. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before the water overtook him and washed him away.

"Jace!" She heard Isabelle shout out.

She rushed to Jace's side as he fell to his knees.

Eliza crawled to him, lifting herself to kneel beside him. She put her hands on his face. "Stay awake." She demanded him. "You have to stay with me. Please don't go."

Jace fell to the ground, his eyes fluttering shut.

Isabelle looked at her. "I'll fix him, Liz. I'll help him and then I promise I'll help you."

She nodded, grimacing. Something inside of her chest churned. It felt like her heart was being torn in two. She grabbed at her chest, pressing down.

"Liz? What's wrong?" Isabelle sounded far away.

She bit down, holding back a scream.

 _This is death_ , she told herself. _This is what dying feels like. Not at all peaceful._

Jace was the last thing she saw before the darkness washed over her.

* * *

She exploded back into consciousness. Her head felt full of water and there was a dull pain in her abdomen.

Jace was next to her, his eyes open, looking to the sky.

"J-Jace." Her voice was hoarse, cracking and raspy.

He turned, and in the moonlight, maybe he was an angel. There was no maybe to her, he was an angel. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, feeling of her stomach. For the most part, it seemed the wound had closed up. Her shirt and skin were still stiff with blood. She raised up slowly, looking around. Half of her still expected to see Jonathan.

It took a second to realize that Jace had killed him. He was gone. Finally.

Relief flooded over her. It was only for a minute before it was replaced by dread.

"We need to go." She said suddenly. "To the lake, we have to go to the lake."

He sat up but didn't disagree with her. Isabelle was sitting away from them. "You can't go!" She exclaimed. "You're both hurt, you need to see a doctor."

Eliza got to her feet, holding the place on her stomach. She didn't want to rip it open. "Another _iratze_ and I'll live. But everyone else won't unless we go to the lake and stop o-." She stopped herself. The lie had vanished. He knew the truth. "We have to stop my father before he can raise the Angel and kill every Shadowhunter that refuses to follow him."

"Go back, Iz. We need you to tell everyone what he's going to do." Jace told her. "And that _isn't_ a suggestion." He added before she could protest.

Isabelle stood up, her whip wrapped around her arm. "Don't get yourselves killed." She snapped at them.

Jace stood up. He wrapped his arms around Isabelle, hugging her. "Thank you." She heard him whisper.

A soft look fell on Isabelle's face, a hint of a smile. She said nothing as she walked away from them.

Jace and Eliza looked at each other. He picked Jonathan's sword up from the dirt. "Follow me." She said.

She led him back the way Jonathan had brought them from the tunnel. It would be quicker than trying to find the way they had come before, searching in every crevice in the wall.

Her hands were caked with blood. Her face throbbed from the times Jonathan had hit her. Her neck burned from Isabelle's electrum whip. "Liz, we should talk."

She almost stopped but forced her legs to keep moving. They were in the tunnel. Darkness overtook and she took her witchlight stone from her pocket. "I don't think there's anything to talk about." She murmured as they winded a curve.

His hand curled around her wrist and he pulled her to a stop. His hand traveled up to her neck, his thumb running over the faint red lines left behind from Isabelle's whip. "I'm not mad at you, Lizzie. I just need to know _why_."

She looked away from him, taking a step backward. Was it safe? Truly? No one was around. Jonathan was dead, his body was floating somewhere down the river. Valentine wasn't there, he was at Lake Lyn.

She turned away, continuing down the tunnel. Jace quickened his step, falling into pace next to her. "That night, at Renwick's, I couldn't think straight." She began telling him. "The memory block had broken and the life I had made up was colliding with the one I was living. Valentine started talking and he was saying all of these things about you and me. About us." She took a deep breath. "He told me that you had to believe that you were my brother, that you were Jonathan. I told him that I wouldn't lie anymore. You deserved better than that. He threatened me, he threatened Alec and Izzy, he threatened Clary." She looked over at him, trying to gauge his expression.

True to his word, he didn't seem mad or upset. If anything, he looked…morose. "You did it because you had to." He finally said.

They reached the chamber. It seemed wrong to be there, just the two of them. Her short-sword was lying on the ground and she grabbed it, putting it back in its rightful place on her back. Jonathan had left her knives in a hapless pile near the centered stalagmite. She swore under her breath, he had absolutely no affinity for the finer things in life. She grabbed the knives, wiping each one off on her pants. She slipped one in each of the braces on her wrist and put the others in her belt. "Let's go. We don't have much time."

She started towards the tunnel that Valentine had left from. Jace grabbed her wrist, turning her around. His arm snaked around her waist and he put his hand on her cheek. "Liz, listen to me. I forgive you." She murmured that he shouldn't be so quick to do it. It wasn't the first time. "The only lie I couldn't forgive you for would be telling me you loved me when you didn't."

"I promise I'll never say that." She said quietly. "I'll always love you."

He leaned forward, kissing her on the mouth gently. She put her hands on his neck, pulling him closer. When he pulled away, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Later." He promised.

"You hate liars." She reminded him softly. "You told me that once."

He reached for her hand, closing his around it. "I could never hate you."

Despite everything, despite her brother having almost killed them both, despite him dying, despite the fact that her father was about to eradicate all of the Shadowhunters, she didn't think she had ever felt better.

* * *

She saw her father standing over Clary. He had Maellartach in his grip, the blade high in the air. Did he mean to kill her? They were hardly a foot away.

She slipped a knife into her hand and stared her father down. She inhaled and aimed. The breath held as she let the knife go.

It flew true and hit her father in the hand he held the sword. Her lips spread into a breathless smile. Her hit had knocked Maellartach from his grip. He grabbed onto his injured hand, whirling back. She saw that his eyes were wide with surprise as he took in the presence of the two people behind him.

"You're alive." He noted, unable to hide the surprise.

She stared past him. Clary was lying on the ground. "Are you all right, Clary?" She called.

Clary didn't answer, she only stared back at her. Surely…Surely she wasn't dead. "She is unable to answer you." Valentine told her. "In fact, she can't really do much of anything at the moment."

Jace's sword was up, directed at Valentine. "What did you do to her?" He growled.

Her father stepped back a step, his face uneasy. He hadn't expected them to be alive, but how had he known something had happened?

Eliza took her sword from her back, pointing it at her father. "Answer the question." She ordered him.

"I placed a Rune of Quietude on her. She's unharmed." But there was something in his tone, an unsaid _mostly_ that she knew he had wanted to say. "By the looks of it, I'm guessing the two of you are not here to join me in being blessed by the Angel."

"Blessed? Is that what you're calling what you're about to do?" Eliza asked him. "That isn't the word I'd use."

"We know everything. We know why you're going to call on the Angel. We won't let you succeed." Jace told Valentine that they had sent Isabelle back to warn the army of Valentine's plans. Sure enough, a small envoy would be on the way to stop him.

Valentine chuckled. "No envoy can stop me now. What I'm planning, no one can stop me." He nodded his head to Jace's sword. "Put that away and we can speak more-." His words broke off abruptly as he stared at the sword. " _That_ is a Morgenstern family sword. Which means it does not belong to you."

Jace nodded along, a tender smile on his face. Something lingered behind it, though, something she recognized. With a dark smile like that, he looked like Jonathan. "I know. It belonged to Jonathan, before he died."

Bewilderment crossed over her father's face. "What?" It was the first time he had sounded genuinely stunned by something. He looked at Eliza with pure hatred, his lip curled back in a snarl. "You killed your brother."

Jace said no sharply. "She didn't kill him. I did. And then I took his sword."

Something lit in her father's eyes. "Oh, Eliza." He sighed. "I trained you to do one thing, to be one thing, and you couldn't even do that. I even gave you a genetic advantage and you've wasted it."

"I know." She said simply. "You raised me to kill, to be a killer. You trained Jonathan and I and he was always the better of your little monsters."

He nodded solemnly, saying he knew that. "Between the two of you, you should have been unstoppable forces. I trained the two of you myself. There have never been any better warriors than you two, especially him."

"Actually, it seems to me like there was someone better than Jonathan." Jace said.

She saw her father swallow hard. "He was your brother." He responded unevenly, his voice cracking.

Jace shook his head. "He wasn't." He stepped closer. "Tell me what happened to my family. Did you kill them, my mother and my father? Did you kill them like you killed the Fairchilds, Michael Wayland, and his son?"

Eliza told him to provide answers. He still seemed like he had been hit over the head too hard. Was Jonathan's death hitting him that hard? "I didn't kill either of them. Your father was killed in a raid and your mother killed herself upon hearing the news. Had I not cut you from her, you would have died along with her."

He inched the sword up, holding it to Valentine's throat. "You have to tell me why!" Jace shouted. "There was no reason for you to take me. You already had a son, and a daughter. What was the point?"

Valentine's shoulders seemed to sag. She, almost as much as Jace, wanted to know the truth. Jonathan had known everything and she next to nothing. "I needed another soldier." He said honestly. "Yes, I had Jonathan and Eliza, but I needed a backup plan. An insurance policy, if you will. Even as a baby, I could see that Jonathan had a little too much of the demon blood in him. He was sudden, impatient, and often barbaric. I feared he wouldn't possess the humanity needed to lead the Clave after I passed on. And Eliza, well, we all know how greatly she failed me. But, for all her trouble, she could have been perfect. She possessed her humanity and when she wanted to be, she was unstoppable."

She knew that she shouldn't have been as hurt as she felt. He had admitted, written it down that he had always known she would fail him. Hearing him say it, though, it was like being stabbed all over again.

"So, when I was presented with another chance, I took it. I took you." He told Jace. "Everything I feared Jonathan would not have, you were graced with too much of. You were soft, gentle, you felt your pain and that of other's far too easily. I found myself admiring those qualities of yours. I loved you more for them, I loved you as if you had been my flesh and blood. And while I loved you for your compassion, it made you ineffective for what I needed.

Her gaze slid over to Jace. Nothing on his face gave a hint to his emotions. Either he truly felt nothing, or he was doing a damn good job hiding whatever he was feeling. "We'll see how gentle you think I am when I've slit your throat with the sword I took from your son after I killed him." Jace remarked harshly.

"I recall a time when we stood exactly like this before." Valentine told them. "You threatened my life then as well and you couldn't do it. If you couldn't do it then, what makes you think you can do it now?"

"Regret." Jace said plainly. "I've regretted not killing you every single day. Max, my nine-year-old little brother, was murdered because I chose not to kill you. Who knows how many people are dead because of that choice. Jonathan told us everything about your plan. You want to kill every single Shadowhunter that doesn't choose your side. I think the time has come for me to step up and do what I should have back at Renwick's. I may not want to kill you, but I will."

She thought of Jonathan. Despicable, vicious, more of a monster than Valentine had bargained for. Jace had killed him and almost died doing it. Jonathan had deserved it, he had more than deserved it. But Jace would wear that blood on his hands for the rest of his life. It would eat him alive. She couldn't let him do it again.

"Jace, please don't do this." Valentine said hurriedly. "I don't want-."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "I know you don't. No one does." He lowered the blade, resting it at Valentine's chest. Just by the heart. "Any last words, Father?"

Blood began to show on Valentine's shirt. There was fear in his dark eyes.

"Stop." She blurted.

Both of them looked at her, bewildered by her outburst. Jace said her name through gritted teeth. Valentine smiled uneasily at her. "Daughter." He almost sighed. "I knew you would come to your senses soon enough. I knew you would find your true self."

She lowered her sword to her side and took the few steps to stand right at Jace's side. She reached her free hand and rested it atop his own on the sword. "It's okay." She whispered. "Put it down."

"Liz, you can't be serious." He hissed. "You want him dead more than anyone."

She nodded slowly. "I know, I know. Jace, please just lower your sword and back up. Please." He shook his head, saying he wouldn't let Valentine live. "Get back." She commanded. He stood in his place, unwavering. She locked her jaw, staring back at him. Her eyes darkened, faded from green to the same black that Jonathan's had been. "I said, _get back_."

His face went slack. His dark tawny eyes seemed to glaze over. He took an unsteady step backwards and his sword fell to his side.

In a flash, her sword was back up, right at Valentine's heart. "You didn't really think I was going to let you live, did you?" She taunted him. "After all of the things you've done? Father, you must not know me very well."

Even though she had the tip of her blade sinking slowly into his chest, he wore a smile. She cocked her head to the side. "Ah, see, there you are. The perfection I made. I knew you had it in you, it just needed to be tortured out of you."

"Liz, what are you doing?" Jace whispered.

She didn't look back at him. She couldn't take her eyes from her father. "I can't let you kill again, Jace. I won't let the guilt of murder poison your heart." She reached her arm out, holding him away from her at her side.

"What about _your_ heart, Lizzie?"

She laughed, sounding almost exactly like her brother. "Don't you know, Jace? I have demon blood in me. I'm already poisoned."

His sigh was relenting and quiet.

"Now, Father, what will your last words be?" She asked, pressing the tip of the sword just a little further.

"I'm so sorry, my children." His arm extended, his hand out towards her. He opened his palm to the sky, stretching his fingers out.

Before she could do anything, silver flashed through her line of vision and something landed in her father's grasp.

Maellartach.

He swung the sword, knocking _Eosphoros_ from her grip. "Foolish, as always." He told her, plunging the Angel's blade into her chest.

She heard Jace shout wordlessly.

Her hands gripped the blade and her father yanked it from her. The force sent her to her knees. She tasted blood in her mouth and felt the warmth of it welling on her skin.

Like a trail of black ice, Valentine forced the sword forward, driving it into Jace.

If she could have screamed, she would have.

He dropped Jonathan's sword, falling to his knees in the dirt. His mouth fell open, blood bubbling and falling down his chin.

She fell forward, her face colliding with the damp earth. Dirt and blood mixed on her lips. She lifted her head, watching as Valentine sank to the ground and pulled Jace into his lap.

 _Right in the heart_ , she thought. He had missed her heart narrowly. Maybe it had been the swiftness of his movement or the fear, but he had missed.

He never missed.

"My son." She heard Valentine whisper into Jace's shoulder.

Her arms wobbled as she lifted herself from the ground. She crawled towards them. Valentine stared at her but made no move toward her. His eyes were on her as she grabbed Jace's hand, clutching it tight.

"No." She murmured. "God, no." Her eyes were hot with tears. Blood trickled from her mouth.

His eyes slid over to her. Amber, bright as the sun. A weak smile graced his face before it went slack. Before the light left his eyes.

She cried out, her chest burning. Each breath hurt more and more. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. "What did you do?" She looked at her father, tears spilling down her face.

Valentine maneuvered out from under Jace's limp body. With a gentleness he had never shown, he cupped her face as he leaned down. His eyes bore into her, his mouth turned down in sorrow. "I'm sorry." He murmured. "For everything. Truly."

He stood up straight. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip. His mouth opened. " _Ave-_." His voice cracked and he turned away.

Black tinged her vision. Her arms fell beneath her and she fell back into the dirt. She watched her father, she didn't have the energy to do anything else. She was dying, slowly but surely.

He held the Mortal Cup in one hand and the Mortal Sword in the other. He was mouthing something and then he threw the Cup into Lake Lyn. He looked as if he were going to launch the Angel's Sword into the lake as well.

The Sword went hurtling into the lake. A large column of water spit up where the sword had landed, sending a sound like ice shattering.

Lake Lyn exploded. Beads of water fell onto her face. Brightness burned her eyes as he rose from the lake, the Angel Raziel in all his glory.

She felt as if he were staring at her. She squinted. The Angel's Marks were a brilliant gold, shimmering and moving across his body. His wings spread across the sky, gold, each wing had a large golden eye.

"Raziel." The word came from her mouth with a spurt of blood. It was the last word she spoke before she succumbed to the darkness once more. For the last time.


	32. Chapter 32

Death was just a dream. An imagined figment that would last for eternity. A perfect world she could live in forever.

* * *

 _"You look beautiful." Her father said._

 _She saw him standing behind her in the mirror. He put his hands on her shoulders, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of her head. She smiled at him through the mirror. "Should I be nervous?" She asked quietly._

 _She turned around, the long skirt swirling around her. "Every bride is nervous on her wedding day, Eliza. Though, if you want to run, I'll help you."_

 _She laughed, shaking her head. "The only place I want to run is down the aisle." She admitted._

 _He smiled back at her. "Then let's go. He's waiting for you."_

 _There was a quick knock on the door just before it opened. Her mother poked her head in before entering the room fully._

 _"Look at you!" She held out her arms. "My goodness, you look incredible."_

 _Her father put an arm around her mother, hugging her close. "We did good, Jocelyn."_

 _Her mother nodded, smiling. She wiped the tears from her eyes. "Perfect, Valentine. We did perfect with all of them." He agreed with her. "Now, they're ready. Shall we go?"_

 _They detached from one another, both holding hands out for her. She took one last look in the mirror. Her hair fell in soft waves down her shoulders and back. The gold gown was long and slim-fitting, long off-the-shoulder fluttering sleeves made of a fine sheer material. She lifted her hand, admiring the Herondale family ring that rested on her finger. She had grown used to wearing it._

 _"Yes. Let's go." She told them._

 _They led her through the corridor of the Hall to the main room. Her breath caught at the sight of so many people, all gathered for her._

 _Down the room, on the other side of the fountain, she saw him. Standing, waiting for her. She swallowed hard. With both her parents at her side, she started walking._

 _There were faces she knew and faces she didn't. The Lightwoods all wore faces of pure happiness. Maryse and Robert stood arm in arm, Isabelle next them looking radiant in a dress of soft yellow, her arm around Max's shoulders. On her other side was Alec, Magnus next to him. Magnus gave her a knowing look, shooting a wink at her. She saw Clary, standing next to Simon in a Spring green dress, their arms interlocked. Luke was behind them, his hands on Clary's shoulders. Closer to the front was Jonathan. His green eyes were bright with happiness, a pure smile on his face._

 _And there was him._

 _Her parents deposited her in front of him, stepping back to join the rest of their family. The Silent Brother stood before them, a stele in his hand._

Say the words _, he instructed them._

 _Jace took her hands in his, the most glorious of smiles on his face. "_ Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm; for love is strong as death _." The Silent Brother handed Jace the stele. He took her right hand and carefully drew the Wedded Union rune on the skin. It didn't feel like regular runes, there was no burning feeling. Instead, it felt pleasant and warm. It felt like it did whenever Jace kissed her or told her he loved her._

 _He finished, handing her the stele. She held it carefully. "_ Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm; for love is strong as death. _" She recreated the rune on the back of his right hand and wondered if he felt the same sensation she had._

 _After the ceremony was over, they dismissed themselves to a private room. "Wow." Jace breathed. "I have a beautiful wife." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her._

 _She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close. "I love you." She said against his lips._

 _"Not as much as I love you." He chuckled, pulling away._

 _She looked at the family ring on her finger. "It's grown on me. Do I have to give it back?" She slipped the ring from her finger and put it back where it belonged: on his index finger._

 _"Well, I was going to wait until we got home." He sighed. He took something from the inside pocket of his jacket. It was a small dark velvet box. He opened it, revealing a thin silver band, heron birds engraved along the metal. "I had it made for you. As a wedding gift."_

 _"Oh, Jace. It's beautiful." He slid the ring onto her finger where she had previously worn his. "But I didn't get you anything." She suddenly thought. "God, we've only been married for five minutes and I'm already a terrible wife."_

 _He laughed, drawing her back into an embrace. "Lizzie, marrying me was the best gift you could have ever given me."_

 _She rested her head on his shoulder, smiling. "Oh, good. I'm off the hook for future gifts then."_

 _He drew away again, producing his stele. His hand was soft and warm against her chest. Just over her heart, he drew the second marriage rune. He gave her the stele and unbuttoned his shirt. He moved it aside, showing her his chest. She put a delicate hand on the skin. For weeks, she'd been memorizing the marriage runes. She didn't want to mess it up. With thick concentration, she etched the rune over his heart._

 _"Eliza Herondale." Jace whistled. "I'm the luckiest guy in the world."_

* * *

 _The children ran in the garden, the small girl's hands feeling of all the flowers as she passed them by. The boy's blonde curls flopped as he ran. Their laughter filled the air. With a smile on her face, she put a hand over her swollen stomach._

 _"Liz, they're here!" Jace's voice called from inside the house._

 _She turned to the children, extended her hands. "Henry, Celine! Time to go inside!" They ran to her, each grabbing onto a hand. "Now, when we get inside, see who can hug Daddy the fastest." She led them through the sliding door that led into the dining room._

 _Jace was setting the table. Both the children raced to him, catapulting onto his legs. "Whoa!" He bent down, putting his arms around them. "What's with the sneak attack?"_

 _"Momma said to race!" Henry told him._

 _Jace looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Will you get the door? I'm going to get them washed up."_

 _As she passed by him, he kissed her cheek. Celine told them to stop being gross. She walked through the house to the front door, opening it._

 _Her family was standing on the other side, accompanied also by Isabelle Lightwood. "You're so big!" Her mother exclaimed._

 _Eliza smiled tersely. "You sound just like the kids. Celine still thinks I've swallowed a watermelon." She shot a playful look at Simon._

 _He shrugged half-heartedly. She stepped aside, letting them all in. She shut the door quietly. "Where are the little ones?" Her father asked._

 _She waved her hand towards the staircase. "Jace took them to get washed up before lunch. We've been in the garden."_

 _As if on cue, she heard Henry's rambunctious laugh coming down the stairs. He was running down them carefully, his hand on the bannister. Celine ran behind him. Jace had changed them into clothes not smeared with dirt._

 _"Papa!" Henry basically launched himself into her father's arms. "Did you bring gifts?" He asked, Valentine picked him up in his arms._

 _She put her hand over her mouth. "Henry!" She heard Jace chastise him. He came down the stairs, the sun rays hitting him perfectly, washing him in golden light. "That's not very nice to greet Papa like that."_

 _Luke lifted Celine and held her in his arms. "Don't worry, kiddo, we brought plenty of gifts." She had no doubt. Between Luke and her mother's recent vacation in Greece and Valentine's overzealous need to spoil his grandchildren, Henry and Celine wanted for absolutely nothing and they had more than everything._

 _"Clary," she looked at her sister, "would you help me with the food?"_

 _Clary nodded, following her into the kitchen. Jace had left everything out for them. Clary picked up the bread loaf and the salad bowl. Eliza gingerly held the casserole dish. "How are you feeling?" Clary asked._

 _She smiled. "Great, actually. Much better than I have the past few weeks. I've been relaxing more, per Jace's neurotic requests." They took the dishes to the dining room and put them on the table. "I have something to ask of you, actually."_

 _"What is it?" Clary asked her._

 _She turned to her, her hands around her stomach. "We've been talking about names a lot here recently. There's only a few weeks left and we haven't settled on a name. But we know what middle name we want if it's a girl." She smiled shyly at her little sister. "Clary, if it's a girl, we want her middle name to be Clarissa. Is that all right with you?"_

 _Her sister practically hopped, throwing her arms around her neck. "Yes! I would love that!" Clary told her._

 _"So, I'm guessing you asked her?"_

 _They pulled apart. Jace and everyone else were watching them with keen interest. "As a matter of fact, I did. Did you do what you were supposed to?"_

 _He slung his arm over Jonathan's shoulders. "Of course."_

 _Her twin brother looked delighted. "I would be honored for your son to carry my name, little sister."_

 _Now they just had to settle on first names._

 _"Oh, before I forget, Alec and Magnus said to tell you that they wished they could be here." Isabelle told them. "They have the boys in Argentina for a week."_

 _Eliza began to wave her hand to dismiss the apology, but a thought sprang to life in her brain. As everyone sat down, she grabbed Jace and pulled him into the foyer. "Something wrong?" He asked, eyes flitting to her stomach._

 _"No, actually, I just thought of a name. Well, names, I suppose."_

 _He raised his eyebrows. "Tell me more."_

 _She felt the baby kick and winced. Little warrior was getting stronger and stronger every day. "Jonathan Magnus, if it's a boy. I know we decided on Jonathan as a middle name, but Magnus would be chapped if he had to share a first name with our son."_

 _"I like it. No other boy would have a warlock's name."_

 _She grinned as the baby kicked again. "If it's a girl, Alexandra Clarissa."_

 _He leaned forward, kissing her gently on the mouth. "I married a genius." He kissed her again, his hand on her stomach. "Just imagine if we have twins."_

 _She smacked him on the bicep playfully. "Don't say that! We're already going to be outnumbered with three, we'll be in deep with four."_

 _He chuckled, shaking his head. "I love you. And I love this life we've built."_

 _She peered behind him. Their family was sitting around the table, laughing and talking. Clary and Jonathan were helping the kids with their food, making sure they didn't spill it. She put her arms around his waist, hugging him to her as best she could. "I couldn't have dreamt anything better."_

* * *

 _She took a breath, her eyes trained on the target that was painted onto the tree. She released the throwing knife and it stuck right in the center of the target._

 _"Yay, Momma!" Celine's small hands clapped together vigorously. "My turn!" She darted from the picnic blanket, long curls of fair white-blonde hair flying behind her._

 _"Here." She handed her the knife carefully by the hilt. "You never hand a knife over by the blade. Unless you're trying to kill them, then it's acceptable." She winked._

 _"Liz, she's only nine." Jace chided from the blanket._

 _She helped her daughter close her hand around the hilt of the knife. She knelt down so that she was at eye level with Celine. "I'm going to tell you what Papa told me when I was your age." Celine looked up at her with bright blue eyes she had inherited from the grandfather she'd never known. The father Jace had never known. "The knife isn't a knife. It's an extension of you, Celine." She moved a little to the side so Celine had an unobstructed view of the target. She let her hands fall from her shoulders. "Just imagine that you're not throwing the knife, but you're hitting the target with your hand. Try."_

 _She heard her daughter inhale sharply. She watched her aim, her eyes squinted in concentration, and she released the knife._

 _It didn't hit the center of the target, rather one of the outer rings of the target. Celine's shoulders slumped. "No one hits true the first time." She assured her._

 _An arrow whistled between their faces and landed in the center of the target. She turned her head. Henry had his bow, his stance poised and relaxed. "Henry!" Celine stomped her foot._

 _He lowered his bow, grinning. "Bulls-eye!"_

 _Her mouth flattened to a firm line. She stood and walked to the target, taking out both the knife and arrow. She handed the knife back to Celine and gave Henry the arrow. "Keep practicing. You'll get better." She told Celine. "Henry, help your sister, will you? Maybe put the new bow to use with that instead of tormenting her."_

 _He'd gotten the bow as a gift from Alec and Magnus for his twelfth birthday. She didn't think he'd put it down since unwrapping it._

 _She made her way back to the picnic blanket. Jace had a book in his hands and in his lap, each twin had a head resting on a leg, fast asleep. He put the book down and looked over at her._

 _"Dean Rosewain called from the Academy earlier." He told her._

 _She raised her eyebrows. "What did she want?"_

 _She ran her fingers through Lexa's soft blonde hair. "Apparently, Henry got in a fight yesterday." He spoke quietly. "She told me he punched the Acosta boy. Broke his nose."_

 _She sighed. "Are they going to expel him?" He said no. "Did she say what happened?"_

 _Henry had discarded his bow on the ground. He had Celine's knife and was teaching her how to aim it properly._

 _"All she could get out of Henry was that it was about our family. Henry told Rosewain that he wasn't ever going to let anyone badmouth his family."_

 _She frowned. She saw Jonathan stir and sit up, rubbing his eyes. "Daddy." He grumbled, climbing into Jace's lap. He tangled his arms around Jace's neck and curled into his neck, going back to sleep._

 _"Henry, sweetheart, come over here." She called._

 _Her son handed his sister the knife, gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and jogged over to the blanket. "Mom, I swear I'm not making fun of her." He told her._

 _She leaned forward. "Dean Rosewain called your dad earlier. She said you got in a fight yesterday…?"_

 _His face drew together in frustration. Jace said his name slowly. "I only punched Owen because he said Grandma was a bottom feeder for marrying a dirty werewolf. I'm sorry."_

 _She and Jace looked at each other. Jace handed Jonathan to her and stood up. He clapped Henry on the back. "Next time, son, hit him in the mouth."_

* * *

 _Her fingers worked deftly, piecing Celine's hair into intricate braided knots, not so different from how she had worn her hair when she was younger. "I used to wear my hair just like this." She told her, wrapping a hair tie around the ends of the pieces. "Except I braided it when I fought, not when I went to dances."_

 _Celine looked at her through the mirror. "_ You _went to dances?" She asked. "I figured you'd be too busy fighting and killing demons."_

 _She laughed quietly, smoothing the stray hairs down. "I went to a party once, with your dad and your aunts and uncle. It was at your Uncle Magnus' house, it had only been a few weeks since I'd met him."_

 _"Was it fun? I bet it was fun if it was Uncle M's party."_

 _"Yeah, it was fun. Simon got turned into a rat that night and we had to break into a vampire nest." Celine's blue eyes widened. "That's when I got this." She pointed to the ragged scar on her neck._

 _Celine's nose crinkled. "Do you ever miss going out and fighting? You and Dad were the best Shadowhunters, everyone says so. And now you're both stuck here, taking care of us."_

 _She leaned forward, hugging her shoulders. "Sometimes, yeah. But I wouldn't trade this for the world."_

 _She stood up, pulling Celine to her feet. Her daughter looked beautiful, the pink dress long and flowing._

 _"Ready to go?" Jace knocked on the bedroom door._

 _Celine nodded excitedly. "Is Henry ready? I don't want to wait any longer." Jace said he was downstairs waiting. "Good. Just let me put on my shoes."_

 _She walked out into the hall, grabbing Jace's hand. "How're you feeling, old man?"_

 _He grimaced, shaking his head. "I still think she's too young to be going to a dance, Liz. She's only seventeen." He grumbled._

 _She raised her eyebrows at him. "Babe, it's a dance. I mean, think of the things we were doing at seventeen."_

 _He blanched. He rushed into Celine's room. She had just finished putting on her shoes and he pulled her into a tight hug. "Ow, Dad, what is wrong with you?"_

 _"Nothing, sweetheart. Just don't trust boys, okay? If they're anything like I was, run away. I mean, stab first and then run."_

* * *

 _The sun was setting, the sky colored with pinks and oranges. Off in the distance of the sky, she could see the faint appearance of the moon. Dusk was her favorite part of the day, only second to dawn._

 _Jace's arms were wrapped around her, her head on his shoulder. "It's so quiet." She murmured._

 _"I know. We haven't had an empty house in over twenty years. We should have done this sooner."_

 _She couldn't have agreed more. "How crazy do you think the twins are driving Isabelle and Simon right now?"_

 _Jace chuckled at the thought. "Izzy has probably pulled all her hair out by now." He told her._

 _She nodded along. "Can I tell you something?" She asked quietly. He hummed in response. "I never thought we'd be here." She admitted. "I mean, we'd been through so much when we were younger and this," she gestured back to the house and then ran her hand over the Wedded Union rune on the back of her hand, "none of it seemed possible. And now, here we are."_

 _His fingers traced patterns over her back. "Over twenty years of marriage and four kids. I'd say we did pretty great."_

 _She smiled softly, returning her head to his shoulder. "Yeah, we did, didn't we?"_

* * *

She heard voices. They were muted, far off. They were hard to understand and the words seemed to run together like an old radio station.

Every part of her throbbed with dull pain. Her head, her chest, even her feet. Her throat was burning and dry.

The voices grew closer. "She knew all this time?" Someone whispered quietly. "How could she have known and never said anything?"

"Jace said that Valentine threatened practically everyone she cared about. I mean, Maryse told me that he practically tortured her growing up, she was probably scared to death of what he'd do to someone she loved if she told anyone."

"Well, none of it matters now. Valentine is dead."

 _What_?

She opened her eyes. Everything blurred together in a mass of colors.

"Mom. Mom, she's awake."

Someone popped into her immediate line of vision. All she could make out were thickly roped braids of dark red hair. "Eliza, can you hear me?"

Feebly, she nodded. Slowly, everything came into focus. She could clearly make out her mother's face, her usually sharp features softened with concern. Behind her mother, she saw Clary and Luke.

"Clary, go get Magnus." Jocelyn instructed her. Clary left after giving Eliza a soft smile. Jocelyn sat down on the edge of the bed. She smoothed Eliza's hair down, her eyes watery with tears. "Do you remember anything that happened?" Jocelyn handed her the cup of water on the bedside table.

She took a long drink, the burning feeling in her throat subsiding. "Some. I saw the Angel. Valentine summoned him after he-he- Jace. Where's Jace?" She leaned, grabbing her mother by the wrists. She had moved too quickly, pain tearing through her abdomen. Her heart was racing, threatening to tear through her chest.

The image of him lying next to her, his face blank with death, flashed in her mind.

Jocelyn half-stood, leaning her back into the bed, propping her on the pillows. "He's safe, sweetheart. Both of you are."

She relaxed, her heart slowing down. He was okay. How was he okay? She had watched him die. "I heard-I heard you say that he's dead? Valentine's dead?"

A tear fell from Jocelyn's eye, rolling down her cheek. "Yes. He's dead."

Relief washed over her. He was gone. She couldn't believe it. She smiled. Her father was dead. Her brother was dead.

She was free.

The door to the room opened and Magnus walked through, Clary behind him. "You look much better than when you were brought it. Granted, you were half-dead, but still." Magnus breezed past Luke. He went to the empty side of her bed. He put a hand on her forehead and stared into her eyes. "You've even got some color back in your cheeks. How do you feel?"

"Like death." He didn't smile. She looked around. No one was smiling. "What?" She asked them.

"Sweetheart, do you remember being stabbed?" Jocelyn asked her. "Do you remember your father stabbing you?"

How could she not? She'd been so close to killing him and like always, he had bested her. "Yeah. He-He said he was sorry and then he stabbed me. He stabbed Jace." _Where was Jace?_ Her mother had said he was fine. He was alive. But how could he be alive?

A choked noise escaped her mother. "You almost died, Eliza. If help hadn't have come when it did, you would have died. Both of you."

 _What?_

She shook her head. That wasn't possible. "I thought…I thought Jace…Are you sure he's okay? I _saw_ it. I watched it happen. He died." Even herself, she had felt it. The slowing of her heart, running out of blood to pump, tired of trying. The darkness washing over her as the Angel appeared.

None of it made sense. She had watched Jace die, seen the light leave his eyes. He couldn't be alive. It had to be a lie. "Jace. Tell me the truth. He's dead, isn't he?" Jocelyn said nothing. "I saw him, I saw him die. Valentine shoved a sword through his heart. You can tell me the truth. I can take it."

"Jocelyn, she needs to know." Luke said softly.

So, it was true. Jace was dead. Her heart sank.

Jocelyn nodded. "You're right." When she looked back at Eliza, her face was drawn together in hard thought. "Jace is fine, Eliza. I promise. He's alive and well, just as you are."

She swallowed. If she had died, how was she alive? She hadn't consumed any vampire blood. Clary stepped forward, wringing her hands in front of her. "I'm just glad you're okay. We were all really worried about you." Clary leaned in to hug her. As she looked at her sister, there was a knowing look in Clary's eyes. "We'll talk about it later." Clary whispered in her ear.

When she pulled away, she realized she was crying. She rapidly wiped the tears away with the backs of her hands. "Can I see him?" She asked Jocelyn. "Jace, I mean."

Jocelyn looked at Magnus. "Do you want to take her?"

Magnus looped his arm around Eliza's shoulders. "Come on, little dove." He led her out of the room.

She realized that they were in the hospital within Alicante. They were greeted by a long hallway.

"The Council gave your mother and Luke a temporary house to stay in before they returned to New York. Jace is just a little down the hall. Journeying between the two rooms has been tedious work, though he's faring much better than you. You two had everyone worried."

Someone had changed her clothes. She no longer wore the torn and bloody clothes she had died in. She was wearing fresh clothes, a loose-fitting sweatshirt and sweatpants. It was comfortable, but she felt a little unlike herself. She couldn't remember the last time she'd worn sweatpants.

"Magnus, is Declan…is he okay?"

He gave her a knowing look. "He's fine, little dove. You may want to go see him."

She'd have to. She needed to break up with him.

Magnus knocked on the door and a few minutes later, Alec opened it. His face was bright and for once, he actually looked happy. "Hey, Liz!" He reached, engulfing her in a hug.

"Hi, Alec." He drew back and to her surprise, kissed Magnus on the mouth. "Well, how much did I miss?" She asked them.

Alec's cheeks turned pink. "He keeps trying to sneak out to see you, but Mom and Dad have him on strict lockdown. They're pissed he snuck off and only left a note. Plus, they're telling him you need time to heal and rest and be with your family. He isn't too happy about it."

She didn't think he would be.

"Go on in. We'll be out here." Alec nudged her toward the door.

She pulled the sleeves of the sweatshirt down over her hands. She lifted her hand, ready to knock, and hesitated. Instead, she pushed the door open.

Jace was standing by the window. He wasn't wearing a shirt, only light washed jeans. He turned around. A smile graced his face. "Hey, you."

She stepped into the room, shutting the door softly behind her. "Hi." She whispered.

He had a dark scar on his chest and in her mind, she saw Valentine shoving Maellartach into his heart. When he reached her, he leaned down and kissed her.

"I- Jace, wait." She said, pushing him away carefully.

His brow furrowed as he stared back at her. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head. "No, no, you're fine. I just-I need to break up with Declan."

The look on his face suggested that he hadn't given her boyfriend a thought at all. She was also guilty of that.

"Right. Declan. I forgot about him." He stepped back.

She reached, running her fingers over the puckered scar. He closed his eyes. "How do you feel?" She whispered.

"I'm alive." He replied, opening his eyes. She cracked half a smile. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I'm here. Definitely feel like I died, though." He sighed, looking away from her. "Look, I just came to make sure you were okay. I had to see for myself that you were alive."

When he looked back at her, there were tears in his eyes. She'd never seen him cry before. "I was glad when I died, Liz. I saw your face when it happened, but I was so happy that I didn't have to watch you die."

Her face fell. "Jace."

"I mean it, Lizzie. I watched Jonathan do his best to kill you and I watched Valentine plunge the Angel's Sword into your chest. I was _terrified_. And then, I woke up and Clary was there and she was crying over your body and she was screaming at you. She didn't know why you weren't waking up when I did. I never want to feel that way again. I don't ever want to lose you."

She grabbed his hands. "Jace, I swear that you're never going to lose me. I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Jace had disappeared. She had watched him walk away from the mourner's procession, and from the look on his face, judged it best to let him be. Luke had called for him, but Jace ignored him.

She held her hands in front of her body, watching the smoke rise into the air. On the bier, her father's body burned. Cremating him was the Clave's way of making sure he couldn't come back.

It was her first time out of the hospital in days. They'd been keeping her on close observation. It wasn't every day that someone, even Shadowhunters, survived being stabbed in the chest. The Clave had even allowed Magnus to keep an eye on her. He had told her that physically, she was perfectly fine. However, her soul and her mind were extensively weakened. He said that only time and peace of mind would make it better.

Knowing that Valentine and Jonathan were dead was certainly helping.

She trained her eyes on her mother. Jocelyn had turned away from the pyre, Luke standing next to her.

Eliza licked her lip, adjusting her white gear. _For death and mourning, the color is white_. She didn't feel as if she was mourning. No, she had never felt better. The moment Patrick Penhallow had started the fire, she was really free.

She chided herself for thinking such things. The group of Shadowhunters that had been sent to find Jonathan's body had never found anything. They had determined that he'd been washed away by the river. Jace hadn't believed it and she knew that she shouldn't, but it felt _good_ in believing that he was gone.

For the first time in her life, she felt safe.

Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling of grief. She had hated her father and brother, done everything in her power to stop them. Hell, she had even tried to kill them herself. But they had been her only family for almost fifteen years. Even though they had tortured her and tried to kill her, they were her family.

The pain of Jonathan was the worst. She literally felt as if a piece of her was gone, someone had ripped her in half. They had never been close, not by a long shot. But he had been her twin, the other half of her soul. They had come into the world together and some part of her had believed that they would leave the world together as well.

"Eliza, do you want to go get Jace?" Luke's voice rang out.

She looked at him. He was gesturing to the hill above the cemetery. She made out Jace's figure sitting, elbows on his knees, staring down at them.

She shook her head. "No, you should go." She decided. "I don't think I can be any help to him right now."

He gave her a sympathetic look and headed toward Jace.

"How're you doing?" Her mother asked her, touching her hair affectionately.

She glanced at the remnants of the funeral pyre. Her mouth felt dry. "He's gone." She said. "I don't know how I am, truthfully."

Jocelyn nodded. "I worried about you, when you were young." She told her. "I could see in Jonathan what your father had done. But you were different. I could feel that when I looked at you. Jonathan never cried, but you did. It killed me to leave you behind and I always told myself I would go back for you. And, God, I hate to admit it, but there was a voice in my head that kept telling me that Valentine made you into a monster."

Eliza sucked on her teeth. She hadn't ever wanted to have this conversation with her mother. She had decided that if everything that had happened in the past just went under the rug, everything would be fine.

"He tried." Eliza said quietly.

Jocelyn pulled her into a hug, kissing her temple gently. "My girl, my sweet Eliza Seraphine."

* * *

She stood in front of the mirror, staring back at herself. Her hair was still half-wet from the shower, hanging limply from her head. She could see the red, circled scar on her neck where Raphael had bitten her. Her body was covered in the silver of faded runes and the dark black of permanent ones.

On the lower left side of her abdomen was a thin pink line. She ran a finger over it lightly. She looked back in the mirror, her eyes instantly landing on the thick red line that sliced down her chest.

Maellartach had left its mark on her.

There was a knock on the door. She grabbed the robe from the bed and pulled it over her body. "Come in."

Isabelle came into the room, a garment bag in her hands. "Little gift from Magnus. He asked me to drop it by for you." She put the garment bag on the bed, sitting down. "You look a lot better than you did in the hospital. I mean, a lot better."

Eliza rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Iz." She paused. "But really, you saved us in the valley. Thank you."

Izzy laid back on the bed. "I do what I can." She sighed dramatically. She sat back up. "Well, I've got to go get ready. See you at the celebration."

Eliza mumbled a goodbye and watched Isabelle strut from her room.

She opened the garment bag and inhaled. Magnus had truly outdone himself. She smiled, running a hand down the soft fabric.

 _Thank you, Magnus. It's beautiful._

In her mind, she heard him laugh. _Consider it a thank-you-for-being-alive gift. There are shoes in the bottom of the bag. Got you a seven-and-a-half since I know you like to size up in heels._

She laughed to herself. Of course, that was something he would remember.

* * *

It was perfect. Magnus knew how to dress her better than she did herself. The dress fit perfectly, hugging her body at every flattering curve. In fact, she didn't see a place where it didn't look absolutely stunning. She wondered if Magnus had put an enchantment of sorts on it. The dress had long sleeves, but most of the arms were cut out at the top, leaving a little material hanging. It seemed like something a princess in a medieval movie would have worn. Just more… _her_. Magnus had amplified the personality of the dress, giving it a high slit on the left side.

She bent down, slipping her feet into the silver heels. When she looked back in the mirror, she adjusted her hair. It had dried straight, and she had left it that way.

Her eye makeup was just dark enough that Isabelle would approve, but not so much that Magnus would love it. She had applied a dark red lipstick that perfectly matched the color of the dress.

Just in case, just because she liked to be safe, she had hidden a slim throwing knife in each of her bracelets.

She was meeting everyone at the celebration. For the first time in days, she was alone. She opened the door, stumbling back a step.

Declan reached, steadying her. She stood up straight, a sour taste filling her mouth. "You look lovely." He smiled.

She swallowed. "So, do you." And he did, in a finely made black suit, his hair slicked back.

"Magnus told me where you were staying. I thought we might walk together."

She nodded, stepping out the door. The sun had gone down, but all of the streetlights were on. People walked in the streets, laughing and talking. No one was wearing gear, all dressed for a celebration. Men in fine suits, women in beautiful dresses.

"Declan, we need to talk." She said thickly.

"Yes, we do." He agreed. "What in the devil were you thinking, Eliza, going off after your father like that? You could have gotten yourself killed." He paused. "Hell, you did almost die."

She looked over at him. Her heart wrenched. "I know. But he's dead now. They're both dead now."

"Right. So, Jace isn't really your brother?"

She said no. She repeated what she had for everyone else the past few days. Valentine had threatened to hurt everyone she cared about if she didn't lie about Jace being her brother. She had wanted to tell the truth so many times, especially seeing Jonathan posing as Sebastian Verlac, but he had been extensive in his threats to her.

"I always wondered. He doesn't look anything like you or Clarissa."

She said he wasn't the only one who'd had doubts. "Actually, Declan, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. About Jace. Do you remember when I told you that I lied to Jace to protect him?" Slowly, he said yes. "Before my father came to New York for the Cup, he sent me, a few months before. Jace and I were close. Really close."

Declan stopped walking. "How do you mean?"

She stopped, standing in front of him. "We were…well, you know. Dating, I guess. But then, Valentine came back, and I had Magnus put a block on my memory. And when Valentine got the Cup, he forced me to lie to everyone about who Jace was."

She stared back at him, trying to figure out his thoughts by his expression. "That must have been incredibly difficult for Jace." He said. "Believing his girlfriend was his sister."

"Declan, I-I love him." She'd never said the words aloud to anyone before. She held her breath, waiting for him to respond.

Declan smoothed his suit jacket out. "I see." He said softly. "And he feels the same?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "Of course, he does. How could he not?" She wanted to look away but couldn't. She knew she was doing the right thing, but it broke her heart to do it. Declan was perfect. He was kind-hearted and warm, hell, he courted her. But he wasn't Jace. He may have been perfect, but he wasn't perfect for _her_. "I suppose there's nothing I can do to sway your decision?"

She smiled at him sadly. "No, I don't think so. It's always been him. But I need you to know. You weren't a sort of rebound or anything. I dated you because I liked you. With you, things were fun, and they were easy." Easy because no one thought he was her brother.

The smile he gave her broke her heart. "This is for the best, my dear Eliza. You love him and we both know there was no real future between us." He put his hand on her shoulder gently, his caramel eyes radiating only kindness. "I appreciate your honesty, Eliza. Please know that I will always care for you."

She nodded. "You too. Thank you, for everything."

He let his arm fall and with only the ability that a vampire could have, he disappeared into the night. She felt lighter, having done what she did.

She no longer felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had no secrets anymore.

Up ahead, she could see Angel Square. For a moment, she forgot she was actually in Alicante, the square seemed so unlike itself.

There were large trees planted in the middle of the square that had most definitely not been there before. They weren't normal sized trees, they were nearly the size of the demon towers, with trunks of silver. She wondered how they had gotten there. By magic or manual labor?

Ribbons had been twirled around the trunks of the trees and lights hung in the foliage. Tables and benches skirted the edges of the square. People, Shadowhunters and Downworlders alike, were gathered around them, laughing and talking excitedly.

All of the storefronts were brightly lit, doors opened and welcoming partygoers. There was an assortment of food and drinks to choose from.

She spotted Magnus standing next to a tree, talking to a woman she didn't recognize. He looked up, staring off at someone. Her gaze slid over, and she saw her friends. Alec, Izzy, Clary, Simon, Maia, and Aline. Magnus excused himself from the woman and made his way to Alec. His black frock coat blew out behind him and she could see a hint of his violet vest.

As if he sensed her presence, he looked over at her. She waved slightly.

 _You look perfect. Your Shadowhunter in shining armor is by the Hall steps._

It was just mysterious enough for Magnus to have said it, but obvious enough that she knew exactly who he was talking about.

As he leaned close to Alec, she mouthed a 'thank you' and began walking away. She followed the trees, making her way to the Hall of Accords. The steps seemed vacant, save for one tall silhouette sitting by a pillar.

As she grew closer, going up the stairs, she saw he wore a simple plain white shirt, jeans, and a dark jacket. Either he was underdressed, or she was overdressed. She noticed that he didn't have any visible weapons on him and a pang of regret surged through her as she thought about the two knives hidden in her bracelets.

 _Better safe than sorry,_ she told herself.

Jace looked up from the ground, his eyes finding her. His hair looked unkept and his eyes seemed worn with exhaustion. In his lap, she saw a small silver box. "Want some company?" She asked.

He shrugged. "If you want."

With a frown, she adjusted her dress and sat down next to him. "What is that?" She nodded to the box in his lap. There was a pattern of birds plated to the top of the box.

"I stopped by Amatis' house earlier. I wanted to thank Clary, but she wasn't there. Amatis and I talked for a little while and she gave me this. It was my father's."

She looked once again at the birds on the box and then recognized them as herons. Herondale. "Stephen?" Jace said yes. It took her a moment to put it together, why Amatis would have a box belonging to Stephen and then she remembered that Stephen and Amatis had been married once. "What's in it?"

He shrugged again and she wondered if he really was as okay as he'd been letting everyone on to believe. "Some journal pages, a couple letters, basic stuff. I read through it and I guess I thought maybe I would find a connection to him, maybe I'd _feel_ connected. But I don't. I don't feel anything."

She reached, putting her hand over his. "Jace, you don't have to try and force a connection. You never knew him."

"I don't even have a name anymore, Liz. Jonathan Christopher wasn't my name, it never was, but at the same time, it's the only name I've ever had." She asked how he came up with the name Jace. "I didn't." He replied. "Valentine always referred to me as Jonathan and so did everyone else. I didn't even know I had a middle name until I found that journal when I was young, but I guess he wasn't even talking about me. He was talking about the real Jonathan." She bit down on her lip. "I told Maryse when I was younger that my middle name was Christopher and she didn't believe me at first, but I swore that it was. She finally just relented and said that she had forgotten Michael Wayland had named his son Jonathan Christopher. But after that, she started calling me Jace."

Her thumb rubbed circles on the palm of his hand. "Do you think she knew back then, and didn't want to admit to it?" She asked in a soft voice.

"Probably. She probably just didn't want to admit it and gave me a new name that tied me to the Lightwoods and to my new life."

"Because she loved you. She still does. One thing I know for certain is that the Lightwoods have always been your family. You may not have known your biological parents and the father you've always known turned out to be the worst Shadowhunter ever, but your real parents are Robert and Maryse and they've always loved you." He looked at her. The shadows under his eyes were worse than she had originally thought and his face seemed gaunt. "You have a name. You've had one since you were ten." She told him, trying to fix his hair. "Your name is Jace. You can be a Lightwood, or you can be a Herondale, it doesn't matter. But don't choose Herondale because you think it's the right thing to do. Don't just choose it because you suddenly know that Stephen and Celine Herondale were your biological parents."

He leaned over, resting his head on her shoulder. Her hand ran through his hair, picking at the curls. "You think I should go by Lightwood." He observed.

"Like I said, they've always been your family."

He moved away, looking at her. His brow was furrowed in thought. "What about you? Your family? Your name?" She asked what he meant. "Are you going to keep going by Morgenstern or are you going to change it?" She asked what she would change it to. "Fairchild, it's your mother's name."

She leaned back against the pillar. "I hadn't given it any thought, to be honest." She murmured. Changing it to Fairchild seemed to be the best thing to do, it would certainly make everything much easier on her. But…she was the last Morgenstern. If she changed her name, that would mean she was giving up. She wanted to do right by the name, make it into something good.

Sure, every time someone heard the name Morgenstern, they would always think of her father and what he had done. But she wanted them to hear the name, think of that, and then associate it with all the good she planned to do.

"It's the only name I've ever had." She whispered. "I don't want to give it up, I don't think. Is that bad of me?"

He shook his head. "No, it isn't."

"It'll make my life difficult, but honestly, could it be worse than anything I've already experienced?" There was a lilting, comedic tone to her words. Surely nothing ahead of her would be worse than the things she had behind her.

"For both our sakes, I hope not." Jace admitted.

She raised her eyebrows. "Both of us, huh?"

"Liz, I hate to admit it but I'm not going anywhere. I'll be there with you, every step of the way. Forever."

She pressed her lips together to suppress the smile. "Always." She amended.

He began to lean forward and then stopped himself. She frowned at him. "Declan. Have you broken up with him? I know you said that-."

"Yes. I'm single once again." She sighed.

Jace laughed to himself, kissing her lightly on the mouth. When he pulled away, she swiped the lipstick off his lips. "Not anymore." He told her.

"Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"Are you saying yes?"

She drummed her lips on her thigh, her face drawn together in fake thought. "Hmm. I'll have to think about it. I did just get out of a courtship with a man who once courted a Spanish princess." He cleared his throat. There was no annoyance on his face, only slight amusement and a little worry. "Yes, you idiot." She told him. "After everything we've been through, how could I say no?"

He kissed her again.

* * *

It was a little while later when they finally decided to rejoin the celebration. Jace's fingers were laced through hers as they weaved their way through the crowd of people. They found the others occupying a table near one of the square's corners.

"Well, looks like the two lovebirds finally decided to come out of their little nest." Isabelle winked, waving them over. In her other hand, she held a flute glass filled with a fuchsia liquid. "Want some?" She offered Eliza.

"Oh, no." She shook her head vigorously. "No odd colored drinks for me."

Izzy offered it to Jace. "Here. Have some."

"No way. Men don't drink frilly stuff like that. Bring me something else, something brown." Izzy's face twisted in disgust. "You know, because men like brown drinks." Jace told her. "Whisky, bourbon." He prattled. "Brown is a very masculine color. See, look at Alec." He gestured over.

Alec's sweater was a faded, rough, brown color. Alec regarded his sweater with sadness. "It used to be black." He sighed.

Eliza fought a laugh. Poor Alec. "You know, a nice sequined headband would really make it look better." Magnus suggested. Simon told Alec to be careful or he'd end up looking like some woman named Olivia Newton-John, who had apparently starred in a movie. "That isn't so bad." Magnus countered.

Maia was sitting next to Simon, her head ducked in conversation with Aline. "Simon, come here." Jace beckoned him.

Sensing a conversation she didn't particularly want to be a part of, she released herself from Jace's hand. Giving him a soft smile, she walked away and headed to Clary's side. She sat down on the bench.

"You look happier than I've ever seen you." Clary observed, a knowing glint in her green eyes.

"Probably because this is the happiest I've ever been." She paused. "Clary, can you tell me what happened? What really happened, I mean."

Clary's eyes softened. "Valentine stabbed you and then he stabbed Jace. The two of you were dead. I drew a rune over part of Valentine's summoning circle. After the Angel killed him, he said I could ask for any one thing. A favor, an answer to a question. Anything. All I could think about was that, for my entire life I had lived a lie. I thought that the only family I had was my mom, Simon, and Luke. Then I met you guys and I found out I had a sister. A badass, demon-slayer sister who is one of the most loyal and caring people I've ever met. And she actually likes me. But then, I see Jace, lying right next to you. I realized that I couldn't bring you back, not without him. I told the Angel that I couldn't choose between the two of you. I wouldn't choose. And he brought you both back."

She sucked on her bottom lip. So, she had been right. She _had_ died. She had watched Jace die and then died herself. And Clary had used her one gift from the Angel to bring her back. To bring them both back. She had given her Jace.

"I won't ever be able to repay you for what you've done, Clary. Not just saving me, but for saving Jace."

Clary looked away. Her eyes had landed on Jace. He was looking back at them, a perplexed look on his face. Clary turned back to Eliza. "It's what sisters do. I think." She smiled uneasily.

Eliza wrapped an arm around her, hugging Clary to her side. "Yeah, I think so too."

Clary's head lifted, her eyes moving to the line of trees. Eliza followed her gaze. There was a woman standing there, watching them. She wore a deep green dress, her scarlet hair cascading down her back.

The Seelie Queen.

She beckoned Clary. Clary looked at Eliza. "Go. I'll be right here." She assured her. She watched her sister get up and walk over to the edge of the trees to meet the Seelie Queen. She scooted to the edge of the bench and tucked her hair behind her ear, listening in.

"Stop there. Come no closer." She heard the Queen say.

"Why have you called me, my lady?" Clary addressed the Queen with the proper formality but had not excluded her sass.

"In exchange for a favor from myself, I would ask you for one."

A _favor_? That didn't sound good. Clary asked what she meant by a favor. She sat on the edge of the bench, ready to be up and at Clary's side if need be.

"I am aware that the Council has not yet selected a representative for the Fair Folk. I am also away that Lucian Greymark is remarkably close to you. Perhaps you could ask him to consider Meliorn for the seat on the Council."

As in, Isabelle's ex-faerie boyfriend? Clary remarked that she didn't think Luke was very fond of Meliorn. "Not to mention, you knew that Jace wasn't our brother when we were in the Seelie Court and you never said anything about it." Clary brought up.

Her ear twitched and she wished she could get closer. "Perhaps. Though, all those children who share the blood of the Angel are siblings in theory."

Clary said that she didn't think that was how it worked. "I don't think I'll talk to Luke for you." Clary said. "What you did in the Seelie Court was really rude and wrong and I just don't think I want to help you after that."

"Are you refusing a favor from the Seelie Queen?"

"Sounds like it."

A few seconds later, Clary returned to her side. "That was pretty badass of you." Eliza whispered in her ear. "Not everyone has the power to refuse the Seelie Queen."

Clary's cheeks tinged pink.

She looked up, seeing Robert and Maryse. Each of them took a turn shaking Magnus' hand. One of Maryse's arms was roped around Alec's shoulders, hugging him to her. "Be right back." Eliza told Clary.

She moved to Magnus, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned and she immediately hugged him. "Oh, little dove. What a surprise."

"Bout time, don't you think?" She murmured.

"More than."

She grinned, releasing him. "I'm happy for you." She said soberly. "Truly."

His cat-eyes flitted and she looked over. Jace was perched on the wall, watching them. There was an amused look in his eyes, the corner of his mouth turned up. She and Magnus looked back at each other. "And I you, my little dove."

"Fireworks!" She heard Isabelle exclaim.

Magnus gave Eliza a look that she knew meant _go on_. She walked over to Jace, sitting down beside him. Casually, as if he had been doing it his whole life, he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side. She leaned her head on his shoulder, looking up at the sky.

It was blank.

"Iz, I thought you said there were fireworks?" Clary asked.

"Soon." Isabelle assured them all.

"I've never seen fireworks before." Eliza mentioned. Everyone leaned, looking at her questioningly. "I really don't know what part of locked-in-a-cottage-for-fifteen-years none of you understood." She said.

No one said anything and they all turned back away.

She felt at peace, among her friends and family. She could hear the indistinct chatter of quiet conversations, but the loudest thing was the sound of Jace's heartbeat.

"Look." Jace whispered.

She raised her head, looking up at the sky. She heard the high whistle of something rising in the sky. Only a second later did it explode into the dark sky. Sparks showered throughout the skyline, bright gold.

She thought of Raziel rising from the lake, shrouded in gold mist. The sky almost seemed exactly like that and she half-expected the Angel to appear before them all.

"Beautiful." She murmured.

"Yeah, you are." Jace whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

She knew then that everything would be perfectly fine.


	33. Chapter 33

City of Fallen Angels

 **October**

It seemed like the journal was taunting her. She couldn't see it, having hidden it away in the back of her closet, but she knew it was there. Just knowing it was there was enough to drive her crazy.

She had fought the urge to open it and devour its content every day since returning from Alicante. She knew doing so would only make her feel worse.

So, it sat behind other unwanted things in her closet, waiting, haunting her until she found the courage to open it.

Lazily, she launched another knife from her grasp. It flew through the air and stuck right in the center of the target. Above in the rafters, she could hear Clary talking to someone. She glanced up as she tossed another knife. Clary was holding her phone to her ear, sitting down on the rafter.

Jace was going to lose it whenever he got back. He'd left a few minutes before, going off to find more rope.

"You know, Jace is going to kick your ass if he finds out you're on the phone up there." Eliza called up to her.

"She isn't wrong." Jace announced himself.

Clary had hidden her phone back in her shirt. "Sorry! Simon called. Emergency."

Jace and Eliza shared a look. "Want to practice flipping with us or keep standing over there thinking about stuff you don't want to be thinking about?" He asked her.

She narrowed her eyes. He always knew when something was up with her. "Sure." She walked over to the target and jerked the knives out. After wiping them off, she put them back into their respective drawer.

They didn't usually train Clary. One of the older adults like Maryse or literally anyone else usually did it. They took turns with Clary's training while they waited to find a suitable replacement tutor.

"Where do you want me?" She asked Jace, folding her arms over her chest.

He thought about it for a moment. "Get up there and demonstrate."

"Please." Clary added, nodding eagerly.

Jace gave her a cord and she tied it tightly around her waist, hooking it over and around her belt. She looked up at the rafter Clary was sitting on. She moved over a few feet, judging the distance from the ground to the rafter. She had jumped it before, she could do it again. She closed her eyes and jumped.

A second later, she felt the firm wood of the rafter beneath her feet. She opened her eyes and peered down. Jace was looking up at her with a crooked grin on his face. "That's my girl." He whistled.

Rolling her eyes, she tied the flex cord to the rafter, pulling it to make sure it wasn't going to slip. She looked at her sister. "Watch and learn, kid." She leapt off the rafter. Eyes open, she spread out her arms. There was the feeling of flying before the flex cord went rigid where and ricocheted her back into the air. She felt her body being jerked back into the air and then begin to fall once again. She slowed to a stop, her face only a few feet away from Jace's.

"How do you _do_ that?" Clary called down. "I always ball up and scream."

Eliza smiled breathlessly. "Years of practice. You'll get better." She motioned for Jace to untie the cord from her waist. His fingers worked with a swift deftness and she felt the cord slack. Jace's hands caught her waist and he lowered her until her feet touched the floor. "Thank you." She kissed him on the lips quickly. She looked up at Clary in the rafters. "Come on down."

They watched Clary jump down. She curled herself into a ball. She came down and then bulleted back into the air before falling down again. She splayed out as she slowed down above them.

Eliza's nose wrinkled. "Better." She winced. "Just uh, try not to go into fetal position or close your eyes. That helps." She advised.

"Right. Because I'd definitely wanna see myself hurtling towards my bloody death." Clary muttered.

Her comment earned a chuckle from Jace. Eliza elbowed him sharply in the side. "You need to trust in the cord, Clary." Jace told her. "Until you do that, it isn't going to work."

Clary frowned. "Right. Well, can someone get me down from here?"

Eliza broke from Jace's side and grabbed a knife from the table. She launched it in the air, and it sliced through the cord and Clary fell to the floor with a groan. Eliza grimaced. "Okay, maybe I didn't think that through completely. I'm sorry."

Clary looked up and waved it off, saying it was fine.

"What in the world is going on in here?" Isabelle announced herself. The heels of her boots clicked loudly against the wood floor. "Is _this_ what you call training?"

Jace rolled his eyes at his adopted sister. "I don't recall anyone asking for your input, Iz."

Clary got to her feet, fixing her clothes. Isabelle removed her bright red gloves. "Aren't these to die for?" She asked, showing them off to Clary and Eliza. Eliza saw that they were made with a smooth velvet material. "This store, Trash and Vaudeville, was having an amazing sale. We could go look and see if they have some still." Jace said that he figured they wouldn't go with his gear. Eliza stifled a giggle as Isabelle glared back at him. "Anyway, that's not why I came up here. Did you guys hear about the dead Shadowhunter? They found him in Brooklyn, but they can't tell who it is. That's how messed up the body is. Mom went to go check it out, see if she could help, I think."

Jace folded his arms over his chest. "The Clave's holding a meeting about it. I saw her as she was leaving." Eliza raised her eyebrows. He hadn't said anything about knowing. He caught the look she gave him. "I didn't want you to worry."

Worry? There was a knowing look in the dark tawny of his eyes. Her shoulders sagged. She knew exactly what he was talking about. "Right." She mumbled.

"Do you think it could have been someone we know?" Izzy asked, biting down on her lip.

"Doubt it." Jace assured her. "Maryse said the body had been stashed in a deserted factory for the past couple days. We would have noticed if someone we knew had been gone that long."

Isabelle nodded thoughtfully. Her eyes were darker, maybe a little softer, than usual. Eliza wondered if this incident had brought up memories of Max. Eliza still felt some shred of guilt over Max's death. Jonathan had murdered Max. If she hadn't been so afraid of him, maybe Max would be alive.

"I'm going to go change." Clary announced. She walked across the room to the small changing area that was attached to the training room.

She waited until the door was shut to smack Jace on the shoulder. "I get that you didn't want to worry Clary, but you could have told me."

Izzy whistled lowly, turning away from them. Jace made a face. "Liz, you know exactly why I didn't tell you. Do you really want to bring it up right now?"

Her mouth fell open. "They're just dreams, Jace." She said softly. "Nightmares." She corrected herself. "Everyone has nightmares."

"I know that they're just dreams, but I don't think you do."

She shifted her weight uncomfortably. Before she could say anything else, Izzy whipped back around.

"Oh, my God! I forgot to tell you guys!" She squealed. "Simon and I had a date again this evening! We went to this kitschy little mundane restaurant on the corner of Ninth and Second."

Jace began putting away the floormats and the rest of the training gear. "A real date, then." Jace said, rolling the mats up. "He had the nerve?" He joked.

The two girls shared a look and Clary came out from the changing room. She'd changed back into her light pink sweater and denim skirt that she'd paired with boots and black tights.

"No, actually, it was more of a little diner." Isabelle amended her earlier statement. "He kept trying to get me to eat this pink soup. I think he's trying to live vicariously through me or something." Jace arched an eyebrow, muttering some kind of innuendo she didn't catch. "He's sweet as ever, don't worry."

"He called me earlier." Clary told Isabelle. "He said it was nice, the date."

Isabelle's mouth pinched together in an odd fashion when she looked over at Clary. Her face relaxed after a second. "Oh, you two talked? Good." Clary said he had just called to talk for a few minutes. "Like I said, sweet as ever. But you know, that gets very old." She said coolly. She admired her gloves once more before pocketing them. "Not like it matters. We're just messing about." Yet, Eliza didn't believe that Isabelle truly saw it that way. There was something a little hurt in her voice.

"So, you two aren't exclusive?" Clary asked her.

Isabelle's face paled. "No." With a long yawn and a stretch of her arms, Isabelle announced that she was going to bed. She wiggled her fingers back at them as she left the training room.

Jace began unfastening the buckles of his gear. The gear made a shell around his normal training clothes.

"Are you going home now?" Eliza asked her. The clock on the wall said that it was nearly eleven at night.

Clary nodded. Ever since they had returned from Idris, their mother had allowed Clary to begin training as a Shadowhunter. Clary had only hinted at the strenuous conversation she had gone through to be allowed to train. There were conditions. She couldn't live at the Institute, instead she stayed with Jocelyn and Luke at Luke's house. Maryse gave Jocelyn updates every week concerning Clary's progress. Clary was not, absolutely not, allowed to stay the night at the Institute.

Eliza had endured her own version of the conversation. Hers went a little differently. Jocelyn had tried for hours to convince her to move into Luke's with them, but Eliza didn't feel right about it. She knew that her mother was trying to build a relationship with her, but she felt as if she would be imposing if she stayed at Luke's. Jocelyn told her that she wasn't comfortable with her staying at the Institute, seeing as how Jace also lived there. She didn't want her entire life revolved around a boy she had only known for a few months.

Eliza had tried to tell her that Jace wasn't just _some boy_. He was Jace. He was special. Eliza relented and agreed to fully move out of the Institute and stay with Magnus.

It had been six weeks since they'd returned and living with Magnus was an adventure all on its own. She supposed that Jocelyn also asked Maryse to let her know if she ever tried to stay overnight at the Institute. That in itself was too horrible for her to imagine.

The other stipulation of the agreement was that twice a week, Eliza had to have dinner with them at Luke's.

"I'll walk you out. I have to get home too." Eliza told her.

Jace's face fell. "You have to go _now_?"

She frowned, looking back at him. Underneath the gear, he'd worn a thin white shirt. She could see his Marks bleeding through the material. "You know Magnus doesn't like it when I'm out really late. He worries. And you know he'll call or something to make sure I'm actually home. Plus, I have to feed the cat."

"Right." He said thickly. "I'll take you to the door."

"How chivalrous of you."

For once, there was no hustle or bustle around the Institute. It was peaceful and silent as they made their way through the halls. The Institute was nearly desolate, with Robert Lightwood back in Idris for a short while and Alec away with Magnus. The other members of the Conclave didn't come around very much. Either they were incredibly busy, or they were giving the Lightwood family time to grieve for Max.

She supposed she could have tried to stay at the Institute. There was a pretty good chance that Magnus was having way too much fun with Alec to remember to check in with her. But there was also her slight fear of Maryse. And her mother. She could only imagine the absolute rage they would bring down if she tried to stay with Jace. Yeah, she'd rather avoid that.

"Are Alec and Magnus having a good time?" Clary asked.

Eliza couldn't help but grin. Without thinking, she squeezed Jace's hand. "Oh, tons!" She glanced back at Clary. "Ooh show her the photos! Show her!"

Jace used his free hand to fish his phone from his pocket. He tossed it back to Clary and she caught it. "Alec isn't holding back with all the nauseating pictures."

Clary giggled as she went through the pictures on his phone. "You can't really blame them, Jace. They're on a romantic getaway. Plus, you know that if it were you and Liz on that trip, you'd be sending the same kind of pictures." She pointed out.

Jace shrugged but didn't say she was wrong. "The one of them in the Boboli Gardens is my favorite." Eliza told Clary. "Make sure you check out the one from India, Magnus' sari is something Isabelle would die for."

In a flash, Jace had snatched his phone back and pocketed it once again. "Let's save her eyes the damage of seeing that."

They reached the elevator and Jace leaned forward slightly, pressing down on the call button. The gate screeched open. Eliza stepped inside, Clary after her, and Jace last. Gravitation seemed to pull Jace toward Eliza, he drifted there naturally. The elevator lurched as it began to descend.

Ever present was his hand on the dip of her hip, light and warm. Comforting. Right.

"You're still coming over for dinner tomorrow, right?" Clary asked Eliza.

Eliza said yes in a quiet voice. "Every Monday and Friday. Just as promised." She didn't know why she dreaded those twice-a-week dinners. They weren't bad. In fact, they were sort of enjoyable. It was nice, just having a normal dinner with her abnormal family. The dinners made it seem like her life wasn't a wreck.

The elevator shook to a stop. The gate opened and the cathedral's nave became available to them. Clary looked over at them. "See you guys later." She waved half-heartedly and stepped out of the elevator.

Eliza watched her disappeared. Jace turned her to face him. "You know, just because you can't stay with me doesn't mean I can't stay with you. Especially since Magnus is gone."

Her lips formed a small smile. "I can't tell you how much I'd love that. But I feel like I have to remind you of the little psychic link I share with him…?"

It was barely noticeable, the change of his expression. "Yeah, right. Forgot." His words were clipped.

"Jace, don't be like this. Not with me." She sighed.

"I'm not being like anything, Liz. I just wish your mom realized how much we love each other. This isn't some stupid teen fling. This is real."

She put her hand on his bicep. "She knows that." Even as she said the words, she wasn't sure of them. Jocelyn was as overprotective as mother's came, especially when Jace was involved. Eliza knew, and she was sure that he at least suspected, that it wasn't just a mother looking out to shield her daughter from heartbreak. Jocelyn was terrified of Jace. Not just because of Valentine. Eliza had overheard her talking to Luke one night, about Jace and Eliza. And Jonathan. Jocelyn had told Luke that she was afraid of what would become of her oldest daughter if something happened to Jace, or between them. She knew that was code for I'm-afraid-my-daughter-might-become-her-psychopath-twin-brother.

"You want me to walk you home?" He asked, glancing out at the nave.

She shook her head. "I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

Half a smile graced his face, features illuminated by the lights of the candles inside the church. "I know. But I can't help how much I worry about you." Her hand fell from his arm. "You know I love you, right?" Confused, she said yes. "More than anyone has ever loved anyone else before."

She couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right with him. She had half a mind to call Magnus and tell him that she was staying at the Institute. She didn't really care what her mother thought. Jace needed her.

"Jace, is everything all right? Do you want me to stay?" He turned to her, an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes were dark, hooded.

"You know I do, but you can't. Just call me when you get home." His mouth brushed against her own swiftly.

She got out of the elevator, looking back at him, eyebrows knitted together. "I will. I love you."

The corner of his mouth twitched as he pressed the button in the elevator to send it back up to the Institute. She heard the click of the doors as the gate closed and the elevator began moving back up. Instead of Jace, she was staring at the Angel, golden wings splayed out.

Her chest tightened. Every time she saw the Angel, her thoughts immediately went back to Lake Lyn. She pressed her hand to her chest and knew that right under where she felt, there was a thickened scar from the Angel's Sword. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and left the Institute.

* * *

It started the same way it always did. In the valley.

 _The moon hung above the valley, a white orb that reflected on the river. A dark shape cut over the moon, slim body with sharp wings. The cottage was in front of her, the willow long dead and decayed. The windows of her childhood home were shattered, the stones charred black. Smoke swirled from the chimney and a foul stench burned her nose._

 _Demon._

 _A branch crunched under her foot as she stepped toward the house. She pushed the door open, wincing at the squeal the hinges made. The odor grew stronger, bringing water to her eyes. Her eyes scanned the small living room, grateful at its vacancy._

 _Her feet carried her down to the basement, stepping carefully as to not slip and fall. Sound prickled her ears and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She recognized the sound: knives against cork._

 _He stood at the center of the room, effortlessly tossing knives into a target board across from him. "I knew you would come."_

 _Nausea filled her stomach as he turned to her. His skin, once pale and smooth, was now rotted and grey. The skin sagged off the bone, a hole gaping in his left cheek. His hair was still a pale blonde, but no longer full. Instead, there were several bald spots gapped atop his head. Purplish-black circles ringed his eyes, still black as night. His clothes hung off his body limply. He was missing a shoe. Missing a hand._

 _"I don't think I had a choice." She murmured._

 _He shook his head. "No, little sister. You didn't." The knife in his hand clattered to the floor as he made his way to her. His decaying hand cupped her face. "We are one and the same, you know. One soul, in two bodies. I am you. You are me." His grip on her jaw was tight. His flesh felt cold and squishy against her own. "We are meant to be together, Eliza. In life and in death."_

 _Everything inside of her grew cold. Her brain prickled. She tried to move but she couldn't. Even with one hand, he could hold her in place easily._

 _"Jonathan, let me go." She wriggled. She tried to push him away but failed. "I'm not like you. I'm not."_

 _He forced her to look at him. "Yes, you are. You're just too afraid to admit it. I promise you, the darkness will take you, just as it took me. We'll be together again soon. I swear, little sister. Together, we'll take what we deserve. Us against the world. Just as Father meant it to be."_

 _He let her go and she stumbled back. He held his arm out, palm spread. Something whistled and Maellartach came into his grip. Rotted fingers closed around the hilt. The sword seemed different, wrong almost. Before she could think to move, he shoved the blade into her chest. He yanked it out and dropped the sword to the floor._

 _She fell forward and he caught her. His arms circled around her, holding her close. "My Eliza." He murmured. "Father did his best to keep us apart. He trained me to hate you, but how could I hate half of myself, the person who understands me most of all? No one loves you more than me. No one understands you better than I do, sweet sister. You'll see. Everyone will see. I'll have you back soon enough."_

 _Darkness tinged her vision. Her legs slumped and her shoulders shagged. She couldn't move even if she wanted to. She felt cold and chapped lips press against her forehead as she closed her eyes._

She shot up, her body covered in a cold sweat. She swiped her hand across her forehead. She felt sick to her stomach.

Throwing the blankets back, she rolled out of the bed and headed for the shower.

She left the water on cold, hoping it would block out her thoughts. For the most part, it worked. She just couldn't get Jonathan's face out of her mind. The desperate look in his eyes, the same urgency in his words.

It was the same dream, the same nightmare, every night. She fought off sleep in the hopes that extreme exhaustion would fend off anything other than blank unconsciousness. It didn't work. She slept, and when she did, the nightmare came.

The cold water washed over her face. In the other room, she could hear her cell phone ringing. She shut off the water and grabbed the towel from the hook, wrapping it around her body. Half-jogging, she went back to her room and plucked her phone from the nightstand.

"Hello?" She said, answering the call.

"It's three in the morning. Why are you awake?" Jace's voice was half-amused, half-concerned.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. "I could ask you the same thing."

"Nightmare?" He asked. She mumbled a yes. "Come over. We can get a few more hours of sleep and then go out for breakfast."

Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food. "I'll be there in a little bit. I love you."

"Love you too. Be careful." There was a click, signaling the end of the call.

As she stood up, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Wet hair clung to her neck and face, but that wasn't what stuck out to her. For a moment, just a brief and fleeting second, she swore her eyes were dark, the same dark color of Jonathan's. She frowned, looking away.

* * *

There was something about Jace's bed that made her feel more comfortable than her own did back at Magnus'.

Jace was lying next to her, fast asleep. She'd gotten there a little before four and they had instantly fallen in the bed. Just by looking at him, she could tell that he hadn't slept much. As soon as they'd lied down, he fell asleep, arm curled around her waist, face buried in the back of her neck.

She envied his quick ability to fall into unconsciousness. His lack of nightmares that kept him from sleeping. That she knew of, anyway.

He woke back up at eight, pressing a soft kiss at the nape of her neck that sent chills down her back. "Morning." He mumbled.

She turned over to face him and he pulled her closer. "Hi there." She whispered.

"Breakfast?" He asked.

She nodded, pulling away. "I could use some serious waffles from Taki's right now."

His eyes lightened.

Twenty minutes later, they were leaving the Institute and on their way to breakfast. Jace's hand held hers, their fingers laced together.

"I'm going to make a suggestion and when I do, don't snap my head off." Jace warned her. She raised an eyebrow, wondering what sort of suggestion he had to offer. "I know you aren't sleeping. Even if you hadn't have told me yourself, I can tell. So, I think that when Magnus gets back, you should ask him if there's anything he can do to help with the nightmares. Hodge used to make all those tisanes and stuff, who knows what the High Warlock of Brooklyn can do."

"Yeah, I'll do that." She murmured. It had crossed her mind on several occasions, asking Magnus to help. Something stopped her every time. Maybe it was the fact that they always seemed to be asking him for help and extensive magic took its toll on him. Or maybe she just needed to know what the nightmare meant.

She knew one thing for certain: Jonathan wasn't coming back. Jace had killed him. He had severed her brother's spine and pierced his heart. Jonathan was good and dead.

"Good."

The rest of their walk was quiet, a peaceful silence that broke as they walked into Taki's. Even at nine in the morning, the little diner was bustling with business. From behind the counter, she could see Kaelie's narrowed eyes.

Jace found a booth and they sat down across from each other. "Still going to your mother's for dinner tonight?"

"Mhmm." She hummed, picking up the menu. She flipped through it and settled with her original choice of waffles. "I really appreciate the sentiment behind it, but it's kind of unsettling for me. I mean, for fifteen years, I didn't have a mother. Valentine said she abandoned us- me. And now, she's here and she wants to know me. But I don't think she'd like who I really am."

Jace reached across the table, putting his hand on top of hers. He squeezed it comfortingly. "There's no way she could do anything but love you, Liz. I can tell how much she loves you."

Kaelie came, an unamused look on her face. She was one of the few who still hadn't warmed to the idea of she and Jace dating. "Do you know what you want?" Her attitude towards Jace had even grown cool.

"Two coffees, an order of waffles, and three eggs with bacon." Jace told her.

Kaelie didn't write any of it down, she just walked away and went back behind the counter. "Maybe she'll slip a little fey mixture into our coffee." Eliza told him. "You know she's dying to."

Jace chuckled, shaking his head. "I've told you once and I'll tell you again, she's just jealous of you. And for good reason."

His ability to remember the smallest of things from so long ago amazed her. It had been months since that morning, one not so unlike the current one. A breakfast date, Kaelie with a reprehensible attitude. One of the first times Jace had actually shown some kind of warmth towards her.

"Only because I'm dating the complete stud that is Jace Wayland and she has the hots for you."

He shrugged. "I can't help that I was blessed with devilishly handsome good looks."

She rolled her eyes. And for the first time that day, she forgot about Jonathan.

* * *

At exactly six, she knocked on the door of Luke's house. It was just the time of day when the sky was turning a darkened grey. A few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal her mother. Jocelyn's hair was pinned up in a bun, several strands of dark red hair having already fallen from the updo.

"Hey, come on in." Jocelyn stepped aside for her to walk in. A delicious smell wafted in from the kitchen. "Luke's finishing up dinner. Clary is on her way."

She hung her jacket up on the coat rack. In the pockets, she could hear knives rattling against each other. There was supposed to be a rule about bringing weapons to dinner, but she had quickly drawn the line on that one. Who knew what she'd run into on the way to and from dinner? A Shadowhunter could never be too careful.

"When is Magnus coming back, do you know?" Jocelyn asked as they walked into the kitchen. Luke was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. He turned, waving a hello with a sauce covered spoon.

"He hasn't really said. Soon, I hope. The apartment gets lonely, just me and the cat." Chairman Meow got needy in Magnus' absence. She had half the mind to carry the little cat around with her so he wouldn't be so sad all the time. Although, she didn't think Church would take too kindly to another cat in the Institute all the time.

"Well, you know that you're always more than welcome to stay here." Her mother reminded her.

"Where's Jace tonight? You should bring him one night. A good home-cooked meal might do him some good." Luke said.

Eliza sat down at the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yeah, uh, I'll run it by him."

Luke liked Jace. Jocelyn, not so much. She tried, but not very hard. It seemed more like she was tolerating him than actually welcoming him into her life.

"You are bringing him to the wedding, aren't you?" Luke asked. "Next Saturday."

She felt them both looking at her. She hadn't forgotten about the wedding, but it hadn't exactly been at the forefront of her mind either. And she definitely hadn't been thinking about the chaos of bringing Jace to her mother's wedding. Her mother who seemed to believe that Jace had the potential to be a Valentine incarnate. Her mother who believed that if something bad were to happen between the two of them, Eliza would end up just as twisted as Jonathan. How could she bring her boyfriend to her mother's wedding if those were the frontrunning thoughts on Jocelyn's brain?

"Uh-huh. He's looking forward to it. We both are." She told Luke. "I've never been to a wedding before."

The front door opened and closed, and she heard Clary hanging up her own jacket. "Something smells good!" Her younger sister called. Clary came into the room, her hair pulled back from her face in a messily done French braid. "Hi." She half-hugged Eliza from behind.

"Just in time. Dinner's ready." Luke smiled.

The painful awkwardness faded away at Clary's arrival. What had been stiff conversation turned into lively discussion about Clary's training and the impending event that was Luke and Jocelyn's wedding.

She spoke when she felt comfortable and listened when she didn't. Any discomfort she had placed on herself dissipated after seeing the full smile on her mother's face, hearing Clary's laugh, the bright and finally happy light in Luke's eyes.

 _Family_ , she told herself, _this is family._

* * *

Magnus was going to have her head whenever he returned home. The apartment was a mess. Mostly, the mess was comprised of his books. There were strewn everywhere. Some lay open on the floor, others made into haphazard stacks. The coffee table was littered with them.

Chairman Meow was curled in the space between her thighs and her feet, small head resting in the crook of her knee. Soft and intermittent purrs let her know he was asleep.

She flipped through the demonology book. Hundreds of demons were named in Magnus' books. Yet, out of all of them, she never found the one she was looking for. _The Lady of Edom_ , whoever that was. The demon whose blood ran through her veins, blood that was potentially turning her humanity into ash within her veins.

Chairman Meow stirred, stretching out his small legs before going back to sleep. She put a hand on his back, gently petting him.

After flipping through a few more pages, she quietly shut the book and placed it on top of a growing pile on the coffee table.

She fished her phone from her pocket and dialed the only number she had memorized.

"You're up late." He didn't bother saying hello.

"Sleep is for the weak." And those who aren't plagued with nightmares every single night.

"Then we must be the strongest people ever to exist." Jace laughed quietly.

She wanted to believe that. She really did. "Are you coming with me to the wedding? You don't have to, Luke just wanted to know." She asked. Chairman Meow was officially awake, nudging his little head against her thigh in a desperate plea for attention. She scratched the top of his head.

"Wouldn't miss it. Are you sure your mom is okay with it?"

She scoffed. "She'll get used to it eventually. Like you said, this is real." They were silent for a few moments. In the quiet, she could hear the slight, ragged noise of Jace's breath. "Hey, are you okay?"

He took a few seconds to respond. An agonizing few moments where all she could picture was Jonathan. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She bit down on her bottom lip. "I'm just worried about you. You've been a little weird lately."

"Blame it on the lack of sleep. I'm fine."

"Jace." She exhaled. "You can talk to me about whatever is going on. About anything. You know that, don't you?"

"Did you call to be my therapist or was there an actual reason?"

Annoyance welled up inside of her. She felt her face grow hot with anger. He really could be impossible sometimes. "Right." She said thickly. "I'll talk to you later."

"Liz-."

"Bye, Jace." She hung up, tossing the phone on the other end of the couch. She picked Chairman Meow up, cuddling him to her chest. "Hey, little guy. Just us again tonight." She whispered. "Gionni's is open late tonight. How's pizza sound?" _Again_. Chairman Meow let out a soft sound. "That seems like a 'yes' to me. Cheese, with anchovies for the sweetest kitten."

Thirty-five minutes later, the delivery guy was knocking on the door. Chairman Meow hopped onto the back of the couch as she stood up. She grabbed a wad of bills from the counter and walked to the door. She opened it, straightening out the cash in her hand, counting out twenty. "You can keep the change."

"Gee, thanks." A familiar voice said.

She looked up. Jace was holding her pizza in his hand, the other shoved in the front pocket of his jeans. "I didn't know you worked at Gionni's. Where's the little hat?"

He rolled his eyes. "I ran into the delivery guy in the stairwell. You can put your money up, I already paid him. And tipped generously." She said that was nice of him. "Can I come in?" She asked why she should let him in. "I want to apologize to my girlfriend, for one. And this hallway is shady. Magnus has weird neighbors."

She stepped aside, letting him in. She swung the door shut and locked the bolt. "It has anchovies, the pizza. For the cat."

Jace raised an eyebrow. "Of course, the cat has a pizza preference. I wouldn't expect anything else from Magnus' cat." He put the pizza on the counter. He opened the box, plucked an anchovy from the top and tossed it to Chairman Meow. The cat caught it without moving.

"Funny. That doesn't sound like an apology. That just sounds like you're judging my roommate. And a cat."

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. "Liz, I'm sorry." He sighed. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just…I don't know. Do you ever feel like you're off-balance? Not physically, mentally. Emotionally. Like something isn't right, but you don't know what?"

She walked across to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Whatever's going on with you, you can talk to me. I'm want to be here for you, but I don't know how to be if you won't talk to me."

He ducked his head, resting his forehead against hers. "Nightmares." He said after a few seconds. "I've been having them too."

She pulled back a few inches, staring up at him. "About Jonathan?" She frowned. She hadn't gone into explicit detail about her nightmares, only having told him that they were about Jonathan. She didn't want to worry him too much.

He laughed quietly, shaking his head. "About you. Losing you."

She brushed his hair back from his face, smiling softly. She trailed a finger down his face and cupped his jaw. "Never going to happen, Herondale. You're stuck with me, through hell and highwater."

He leaned down half an inch, pressing his lips to hers. "Am I forgiven?" He whispered, his lips moving against her jaw.

"We'll see." She murmured as he kissed her again.

* * *

Eliza pressed a finger against Jace's shoulder. He stirred, letting out a soft sigh. His head was limp on her thigh, his hand on her knee. "He's knocked." She looked back up at Clary.

"Can I draw you?" Her sister asked, fiddling with the pencil in her hand.

Eliza said sure. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Looking down at Jace, she swept his hair from his face. The three of them had decided to train in Central Park that day, having a picnic with takeout from Taki's beforehand. The weather outside was still mostly nice and it seemed everyone else in the city had the idea to take advantage of it while they still could.

Jace had picked through his food, moving around the sesame noodles before resigning to laying down on the blanket. Eliza had finished off her BLT sandwich and eaten a few of Jace's noodles before closing his container back up for him to finish later. Jace had eaten two slices of pizza the night before and barely touched his noodles. Surely, he'd be hungry later on.

"Can you look down at him?" Clary inquired, motioning at Jace.

"Only if I can ask you a question." She countered.

"What's up?"

She could hear the gentle scratching of the pencil against the sketchbook. Clary's eyes were trained down on the paper, her bottom lip fixed between her teeth in concentration. She looked in her element.

Glancing back down at Jace, she noticed the sliver of skin that showed between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his pants. "My entire life, the only thing that mattered to my father was his mission. Finding the Mortal Instruments and summoning the Angel. From the time I could speak full sentences, I knew that raising the Angel meant you got to ask him for one thing. It could be anything. You could ask the Angel for absolutely whatever and he would give it to you. He would even bring someone back from the dead, if that was what was asked." Clary glanced at her, a confused look on her face. "You can only ask for one thing, Clary. You can only bring _one_ person back from the dead. Not two."

"I don't know what you're asking me." Clary said thickly.

Eliza ran her fingers through Jace's hair. The ends curled around her fingers. "I'm asking you to tell me the truth, Clarissa. What really happened at Lake Lyn?" Clary spouted the same story as before: she had asked the Angel to bring them both back. She wouldn't choose between the two of them. Even from the first time hearing it, Eliza had been uneasy about the whole thing. It didn't settle with her. "You don't barter with the Angel. Please, just tell me what really happened."

There was a sad look in her sister's eyes. She averted her eyes, going back to her sketchbook. "He doesn't want you to know." Clary said softly.

"Jace?" Eliza asked. Clary nodded wordlessly. "Don't worry about him. Just tell me."

Clary didn't look at her when she spoke. "You were right. About the Angel. You don't get to barter with him, you can only have one thing. I wanted my sister back, but I know you. You wouldn't want to be here, not without Jace."

He stirred again, his arm moving to lay across her legs. He looked softer in sleep, something she had noticed a thousand times before. Gone were the hard lines of his face, replaced with a vulnerability he was careful to hide. She couldn't imagine a life without him. Her life before him looked like a blur in her memories.

"When I asked the Angel to bring you both back, he said that he couldn't. He could only bring back one of you. I said that wasn't happening, it was both. That was my wish. He said- the Angel told me that he couldn't bring you back, Liz."

Something inside of her constricted. She focused her eyes on Jace, the peaceful look on his face. The way the soft sunlight washed him in a golden hue. Everything about him reminded her of the Angel. Everything about the Angel reminded her of Jace.

"The Angel said it was because of your blood. He said that your soul was lost to damnation because your blood had been contaminated. He couldn't help you, even if he wanted to."

Dryness filled her mouth. Her tongue felt like it was taking up all the space in her mouth. "Clary, I don't-."

Clary was furiously pressing the pencil against the paper, strands of red hair falling in her face. "Jace woke up. You didn't. I told him what the Angel said. Watching him look at you…this God-awful noise came out of him. I've never seen anyone look that broken, _sound_ that broken. And then you woke up." They were looking at each other. "He made me swear not to tell you."

Jace jerked, a small noise escaping him. A series of similar noises followed, little grasps for air. She looked down at him. Behind his eyelids, she could see the rapid darts of movement of his eyes. His arm tightened around her legs, his hand grabbing on to her waist. He was still for a moment, a gasp that sounded choked coming from him. He moved fast, jerking up into sitting position. His face was pale, his amber eyes wide as they focused on her.

She stared back at him, mouth open slightly. He didn't have to say anything for her to know what was wrong. The look in his eyes said everything. He grabbed him, pulling her close. He held her against him, face buried in her neck. She could feel his heart slamming inside of his chest, his uneven breath warm at her throat. "I'm here." She whispered. "I'm right here."

Clary's gaze met her own. Her sister's eyes were narrowed, brow furrowed.

Jace drew back, some of the color returning to his face. His breathing had relaxed, but his hold on her was still firm. "Bad dream." He told Clary. "Sheep turned rabid on me."

Eliza's hand rested on the back of his neck, the tips of his hair tickling her fingers. "The big, bad demon killer is scared of sheep." She pressed a small kiss against his cheek. "Guess we're never going to a petting zoo, huh?"

Jace rolled his eyes at her, turning back to Clary. "What're you drawing?" He pointed to her sketchbook.

Clary delicately ripped the page from the book and handed it to him. Eliza peered over his shoulder. Clary had drawn them perfectly. The curve of Jace's mouth, the sharp planes of his cheekbones. The baby wisps of hair that fell into Eliza's face, the small upturn of the corners of her mouth.

"This is really good." Jace told her. "Can I keep it?" Clary nodded, shutting her sketchbook and sliding the pencil into the spiral. Jace carefully folded the drawing and pocketed it.

"I'm gonna go to the drink stand and get a tea. Do you guys want anything?" Clary asked, standing up. Both of them said no. She left her sketchbook on the blanket and walked away towards the drink cart.

Eliza turned to Jace. She leaned forward, putting her arms around his neck. "Now, you want to tell me what your dream was really about? I have a feeling it wasn't rabid sheep."

"Same as always." He answered, hands on her waist. "You. You're gone and I can't get you back."

"Like at Lake Lyn?" She murmured. He drew back, eyes dark. "Don't be upset with Clary. I made her tell me. I was going to find out eventually."

His tongue swiped over his bottom lip. He pulled her closer. "I don't ever want to feel that way again, Lizzie. But I do, every night. I lose you over and over again."

"Like I said last night, hell or highwater." She told him. Somewhere, a dog barked. "I'll always be here."

"No matter what? No matter what I do?"

She shook her head, kissing him. "Jace, I love you. We've been through so much, because of me. Nothing you could say or do will ever be as bad as everything I've put you through. So yeah, no matter what you do or what you say, I'm not going anywhere."

He smiled softly back at her. He pressed his forehead against her own. His skin was cool, covered in a light sheen of sweat. " _L'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle_." His voice was sweet and soft.

She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Wow. The sun _and_ the stars? We must love each other a lot." She giggled.

He kissed her, a light brush of the lips.

"Ahem." Clary announced herself, clearing her throat.

Eliza smiled, turning her head to look at Clary. "Hi." She blushed.

Clary had three drinks in her hands. "Got you guys some water. Just to be safe." She handed them each a drink. "Jace, if you're tired, we can go back to the Institute so you can sleep. We can train outside some other time."

Eliza pulled herself from Jace's grasp, standing up. "No, we've got to get you trained. If they find out we've just been hanging out, drawing, and sleeping instead of actually getting work done, they won't let us help you anymore." Jace told Clary.

"They're looking for someone else anyway." Clary reminded him. "A permanent trainer. Someone full-time."

Eliza scoffed, stretching out her arms. "Please. They could bring someone in who trained at the Academy and they still wouldn't be as good as us." She rolled her neck and heard the satisfying sound of it cracking.

"Yeah, because you two are _special_." Clary insisted.

"You got that right." Jace pointed out.

Both Clary and Eliza rolled their eyes. "You know what I mean." Clary groaned.

 _Special_ meaning that they weren't normal. Then again, neither was Clary. Clary just hadn't been brought up like them. Or maybe special meant that they'd been raised by Valentine, one of the best Shadowhunters who had ever lived.

"Come on. Let's train before Jace falls asleep again." She shot Jace a teasing look. "Since we're so boring."

Jace got to his feet. The three of them walked across East Meadow to a small grove of trees. They used the spot often for training whenever it was nice enough outside. The trees were bright with color, their leaves an array of oranges, yellows, and reds. Just a few days ago, she'd managed to drag Jace from the Institute and they'd taken a walk through the park. He had even snuck a kiss on one of the stone bridges after pretending to get ready to throw her off the edge. A woman walking by had offered to take their picture and they'd let her. The picture was stuck to Eliza's mirror in her room, somewhere she could see it every day.

"You think he's okay?" Clary whispered, catching up with her. She glanced back at Jace.

Eliza didn't look back at him. If she did, she'd have to see the sullen look in his eyes, and she didn't think she could handle it right then. "It's Jace." Eliza told her. "He's never really fine."

"Okay, Clary, sometimes you're going to be hit with a demon attack at random and you won't have any sort of real weapon on you." Jace said from behind them.

They were walking under a long row of trees. "Unless you're me." Eliza pointed out. She flashed her wrists, showing off silvery braces on her wrists. Each held a slim throwing knife. "I try not to leave without having at least a little backup."

"Paranoid. She means paranoid." Jace laughed.

"It's better to be safe than sorry." Eliza told Clary. "Always."

"I'll give you that." Jace agreed. "But back to what I was saying. When that happens, you don't really have any time to panic. You pick up whatever you can and use it as a weapon."

Eliza nodded along with his words. Jace stepped alongside her, grabbing her hand. "I killed a Rahab demon once with nothing but a pen and my belt."

Jace snickered, shaking his head. "Also, you need to remember that _you're_ a weapon, too. When you're training is over with, you should be able to do all sorts of stuff with just your body. Break a bear's neck or put a hole in a wall with your foot or your fist." He explained to Clary. "Shadowhunters can make a weapon out of anything, even their own bodies."

Where they had reached, the trees were Marked with runes. A glamour concealed the area from mundanes, leaving it safe for Shadowhunters to train in solitude. Eliza reached out, running a hand over one of the Marks.

"Like fist fighting?" Clary laughed out.

Eliza said yes. "For today, it's Muay Thai." Clary asked what that was, saying it sounded more like food than anything else. "It's an ancient style of fighting."

Jace took off his jacket, tossing it to the side on the ground. His Marks stood out in the sun, the black ink shining. Black vines twined around the curves of flesh, swollen over cords of muscle. "Got word that the new instructor that's coming in next week has mastered Muay Thai." Jace told Clary. "Along with a few other fighting styles, krav maga and lethwei just to name two of them. I think there was one that involves killing other people with little sticks." He shrugged it off.

Eliza shrugged off her jacket and laid it at the base of one of the trees. She adjusted her wrist braces. "Usually by your age, Shadowhunters are almost fully trained. Whenever the new instructor comes in, he or she won't be too soft on you, regardless of your lack of training." There were little wisps of fine hair in her face that hadn't stayed tucked into the half-assed braids she had done. "Hopefully, we can get some basics down-pat with you and make things a little easier for when the new instructor gets here."

"Wait," Clary took a step back, "I have to _fight_ you guys?" She was shaking her head furiously. "Nope. No way. I'd rather have my butt kicked by a stranger."

Eliza stifled a smile. "You won't learn if you don't fight." She grabbed Clary by the waist and turned her to face Jace. "We'll go easy on you." She told her. "For the first little bit." She winked, backing up. She folded her arms over her chest. Clary glanced back at her and she nodded once. "Just breathe. Your instinct will kick in."

"They call Muay Thai "the art of eight limbs" because you have to use your elbows and knees along with your hands and feet as your strike points." Jace explained. "You have to get your opponent close to you and then use each of your strike points as many times as possible until he or she falls."

"You've got bony elbows, so that gives you an advantage." Eliza pointed out. Clary said everyone had bony elbows. "Yours are exceptionally bony."

Jace smiled slightly. "Does this work on demons too?" Clary asked them, looking between her elbows.

He said more or less, on the smaller ones. "Now, grab onto the back of my neck with your hand." He instructed her. Clary did as he said. "Same thing with the other hand."

Eliza swallowed. The amount of close that they were shouldn't have bothered her. There was hardly space between them to fit a sheet of paper. She gnawed down on her lip as Jace instructed Clary to jam her knee somewhere.

"Well, isn't this a sight?" A voice came from the trees. "You mortals and your trysts. I don't remember the two of you being together but then again, I can never keep up with mortal love affairs."

Eliza turned, a knife already in her hand. The Seelie Queen was standing between two trees, shrouded by a shadow. She wore a green gown, the same color as the grass at their feet. Scarlet hair, the same color as some of the leaves above, fell over her shoulders.

"I would say it's nice to see you, but I'd hate to lie to the Queen of the Seelie Court." Eliza grumbled.

The Seelie Queen narrowed her clear eyes at her. "I have news that might interest you, little Shadowhunter." The Queen stepped out of the security of the trees. The sunlight fell down on her, illuminating the golden circlet atop her hair.

"Unless the news is that you're moving your court to another state or country, I don't think I'm interested in it." Eliza replied.

The Queen's eyes sparked. "Not even if I can tell you of another death?"

Jace was standing behind her, one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder. "Is that so? And why would this death be of any interest to us 'little' Shadowhunters?"

"It was one of you. Another Nephilim." There was a horrible sort of amusement in her words. "The body was discovered within my domain, under Oak Bridge just this morning. Some of my own brought the body back to our court to be properly examined, where we discovered it as a Nephilim."

Eliza looked at Jace. He had blanched, staring back at the Queen with a far-away look in his eyes. Jace asked her where the body was.

That made two Shadowhunter deaths within a few days' time. Eliza put her knife back into the brace.

"His body still resides within my court. He is being awarded all of the respect and good grace that we would give any living and breathing Nephilim. There can be no doubt in our good faith now that a fey resides on the Council." The Seelie Queen answered him.

Eliza didn't wholly believe that. Even though the fey couldn't lie, they definitely couldn't be trusted. The inability to lie didn't mean that they couldn't twist the truth.

"Of course." Jace said coolly. "There was no question of my Lady's good faith." His words were thick with sarcasm. The Seelie Queen smiled back at him, a shark smiling at its dinner.

Eliza reached, putting her hand over-top Jace's on her shoulder. She stared back at the Seelie Queen, her eyes darkening. "There was no need for you to alert us of this situation. Custom indicates that you would need to alert Maryse Lightwood, since she's Head of the Institute."

The Seelie Queen waved her words away. "No one cares of custom anymore, Miss Morgenstern. It seemed easier to alert the three of you, seeing as you are here and Maryse Lightwood is all the way back at the Institute."

Jace broke away from Eliza, his hand lingering on her waist. He gave her a brief look before walking away. She turned back to the Seelie Queen, folding her arms across her chest. A few feet away, she could hear Jace talking quietly on the phone with someone before his voice was drowned out by the shouts of children on the playing fields in another part of the park.

"Meliorn is on the Council, I heard." Clary spoke. "Does that mean you don't hold a grudge against me?"

The Queen's eyes brightened, and her smile turned a bitter cold. "For declining my offer? No. I can say that I do not hold a grudge. However, I hope you see the loss on your side." Clary said that she didn't want the Queen's deal and she wouldn't always be able to force people to do what she wanted. "I do not need a lecture from you, dear girl." Her gaze diverted from Clary so that she was looking at Eliza. "No more smart words from your pretty mouth?"

Eliza narrowed her eyes. "I don't want to waste my breath."

The Seelie Queen's laugh was chilling, a high-pitched noise like windchimes clanging against one another in a hard breeze. She looked past Eliza, her eyes landing on Jace. Eliza glanced back at him. He was still on the phone, pacing between the trees. "He is beautiful." The Queen mused. Eliza whipped back to look at her. She had known since the night they went to the Seelie Court that the Queen had a soft spot for Jace. The fey liked pretty things and pretty people and Jace was more than pretty. He was an angel among men. "It is not hard to see why you love him the way you do. Yet, I cannot see why he loves you. You are beautiful, yes, but you are not the same as him."

Her arms fell to her sides. She wanted to speak, to say anything to counter the Seelie Queen's words, but she couldn't find any words of her own worth saying.

"You are bound together. But binding and love are not the same." The Queen continued.

She balled her hands together at her sides, her nails digging into the skin of her palms. She took a deep breath, her chest rattling with anger. "Jace loves me." She had never found the words hard to say before, nor hard to believe. She had never had any reason to doubt Jace's feelings for her. Not even when he had relentlessly flirted and made out with Aline Penhallow. He'd only done it to try and move on, back when he thought they were brother and sister. For six weeks, things had been great. The best they had ever been. There was no Valentine, no Jonathan, no threat to anyone she cared about. There were no lies to tell.

"Love and desire are not one, not always."

"I don't have to explain my relationship to you." She snapped.

The Seelie Queen smiled back at her, lips pressed together firmly. Her clear blue eyes were sharp with amusement. "I see it in your eyes. The way you look at him. You love him, more than anything else. How can you be sure he feels the same toward you?" She spoke in a velvet voice. "Do you really believe that a boy who could have anyone he wants would choose you? After knowing everything he does about you, about what you really are, can you be sure that his feelings have not changed?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She could feel Clary's eyes on her, waiting for her to snap at the Seelie Queen. "You don't know anything about her." Clary spoke. "Or Jace, for that matter."

"Oh, on the contrary." The Queen didn't even look at Clary when she spoke. She kept her eyes on Eliza. "We have something in common, you and I. We share the same blood, the blood of angels. And the blood of demons."

Her breath caught. She took a step back, grabbing onto the trunk of a tree to steady herself. "How much did he tell you?" She whispered.

The smile fell from the Queen's face. There was no longer any joy in her eyes. "I wonder if your love ever sees in you what I see. What your father saw in you. The darkness. It lies there," she motioned to Eliza's face, "behind your eyes. Sometimes it comes out for others to see." The Seelie Queen looked past them both to where Jace was standing. "He is returning. Wipe your eyes and smile, he does not yet see past your pretty face."

Eliza blinked and felt tears she hadn't realized had formed. She quickly wiped her hands against her eyes. She looked behind her to see Jace walking towards them, no longer on the phone. She leaned down and picked her jacket up from the ground, gripping it tight in her hand.

She started walking towards Jace, not even bothering to say anything to her sister. "I have to go." She said as she passed by him.

He stopped in his tracks, turning back to her. "Liz! Liz, come back!"

She didn't turn around.


	34. Chapter 34

She was, in every possible sense of the word, uncomfortable. She stared back at herself in the mirror of the dressing room. She groaned, pushing her hair back from her face. This was _so_ no her at all.

There was a sharp rapping on the door. "Liz, come on. Just let us see." Clary's voice came through.

Heaving a sigh, Eliza pushed open the door and stepped out. Clary was standing off a little to the side, wearing an identical dress. Simon had perched himself on top of one of the stiff-looking white chairs. Maia was sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the wall. She had some sort of object in her hands, staring intently down at it, her fingers moving rapidly.

"Don't you two girls look lovely!" A woman in all black passed by. If she hadn't been wearing a name tag emblazoned with 'Karyn's Bridal Shop' and the name Lisa, Eliza would have assumed that she was just another shopper instead of an employee. Eliza smiled tightly as Clary said thank you. "It's so nice to see bridesmaids getting along without the bride around! You two have been friends for a long time, then?"

Both of them laughed, shaking their heads. "We're sisters. Our mom is getting married." Eliza told her.

She could see the subtle glances between the two of them, trying to figure out how they were related. They barely looked alike. Clary had taken after Jocelyn and Eliza looked startingly like her father. "Oh, that's so sweet. There's no better bridesmaids for a woman than her daughters." With an unpleasantly large smile, the woman walked away to help someone else fit into a dress.

"You guys look really nice." Simon told them.

The dress really wasn't that bad. It was pretty, gorgeous even. Jocelyn had left the decision up to Clary and Eliza for choosing a dress and Eliza had backed out, letting Clary have all the control. Clary had chosen a simple dress made of a fine silk the color of copper. It had thin straps that complemented her narrow shoulders.

Clary huffed, "Just really nice?" Simon returned a sheepish look but said nothing. "Well, what do you think?" Clary turned to Maia.

She looked up from the silvery object in her hands. "I am so not the girl to ask." Maia told her. "If I could, I'd wear jeans and a t-shirt to the wedding."

Eliza knew exactly how she felt. She would have felt much more comfortable wearing gear to the wedding. She didn't know how well she'd be able to fight off a surprise demon attack in the long bridesmaid gown. Isabelle, with no doubt, could do it. Eliza liked pretty clothes just as well as Izzy did. She just wasn't sure she could fight as well in them. Izzy always managed to kick ass in long dresses and skirts. Eliza could do the same, only in shorter fashions.

The bell that hung over the door to the shop chimed as the door opened. Jocelyn walked in, Luke following behind her. They each had a cup of coffee. Jocelyn's shining eyes were on Luke and her cheeks were flushed pink.

She looked over at Eliza and Clary, eyes widening. "Oh, my." She rushed over to them after thrusting her coffee into Luke's hands. "You two look absolutely stunning!"

Grinning, Clary said, "You have to say that, you're our mom."

Luke handed Clary one of the coffee cups in his hand. "Black. Consider it an apology since we're late." He handed the other cup to Eliza. "Tea for you. Chai, right?"

She nodded. "Thanks."

Clary asked why they had been late. Luke said there was a catering matter they'd had to tie up. Maia stood up. She and Luke began talking about the party down at Ironworks that his wolf pack was throwing to celebrate his upcoming wedding. The owner of the bridal shop, Karyn, came up to Jocelyn.

"Jocelyn! Great, you're here. Your dress just got back in and it looks spectacular. Why don't you come try it on?" The woman was taller than Eliza, which was saying something since Eliza was taller than both her mom and her sister. She took Jocelyn by the arm and led her toward the back of the store. Threateningly, the woman told Luke to stay put.

Luke sat down in one of the armchairs, brow furrowed. Eliza's mouth turned down. "Why aren't you allowed to see her in the dress?" She asked Luke.

He shrugged, saying he didn't know. "It's a mundane custom." Clary told them. "They think it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in the dress, especially right before the ceremony." Luke said that he'd only come because Jocelyn had wanted his opinion.

Eliza's nose scrunched. That sounded like the dumbest thing she had ever heard. "Do Shadowhunters have any kind of wedding customs or traditions?" Maia asked them.

Eliza sat down on the raised platform they had been standing on. She rested her chin on her knees, looking up at Luke. "Yeah, actually. But this isn't going to be a typical Shadowhunter wedding. Since I'm a werewolf." Maia asked what that had to do with anything. "One of the main customs in Shadowhunter weddings is the Wedded Union runes. The bride and groom each get them. They're permanent, binding, the way marriage is supposed to be. The runes are meant to symbolize the love and commitment between the two. But since I'm not a Shadowhunter anymore, Jocelyn and I are just going to exchange rings." Maia said that it kind of sucked that he couldn't indulge in the real Shadowhunter wedding experience. Luke smiled, shaking his head. "I'm getting all I ever really wanted. Marrying Jocelyn is all that matters, not the details." Luke started talking about how things were changing, especially with the new Council being started.

"Hey, Clary! Come back here!" Jocelyn yelled out. Clary chugged her coffee and hurried back to back of the store.

Maia looked at Eliza. "You're a girl." She stated. Eliza let out a short laugh, saying that was right. "Did you ever fantasize about your wedding when you were little? Like, who you were going to share those runes with? What your dress would look like? Your dad walking you down the-." Maia stopped herself. She stared back with wide eyes. "Oh, God. I'm an idiot."

"It's fine." Eliza assured her. If she was being honest, none of it had ever really crossed her mind. "To answer your question, no." She finally said. "I never thought about getting married. I didn't think I'd ever get the chance."

Maia's eyes softened. She stood up, handing Simon's little object back to him. "And on that note, I'm gonna go. I'm meeting some friends." She bent low, kissing him on the cheek. "Charge your DS, I think it died." She waved by to Luke and Eliza. "Bye, baby." As she walked out of the bridal shop, Eliza fixed her eyes on Simon.

"Simon, you scoundrel. Dating two girls at once, I never would have thought." And if either of them found out, Simon was dead meat. Izzy no doubt knew at least a dozen different ways to torture him to death and Maia could tear him apart with her teeth.

"Seriously." Clary came back. "If you don't tell them before the wedding, I will." Eliza said she'd help her. "I'm going to go change." Clary flounced back into her dressing room.

Luke asked what was going on with Simon. For a few moments, Simon didn't say anything. Finally, he looked between the two of them, "Do either of you know a vampire named Camille?"

A sour taste filled her mouth. She only knew of one vampire by that name and she didn't like anything that she had heard of her.

"How do you know her?" Luke asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Simon cut his eyes. "You know, I _do_ know a little something about the New York vampire clan."

Luke gave him a sympathetic smile and assured Simon he meant no harm. "By the time I took charge of my pack, Camille had left and put Raphael in charge in her absence. I don't know much about her, but I know she's a legend among Downworlders." Luke explained to Simon. "She's old, which means she's very powerful. Her cruelty and cunningness rivals that of the Fair Folk."

"And she's a bitch." Eliza interjected. Both of them looked at her. Luke asked how she knew Camille. "She and Magnus have a…a complicated history. He isn't her biggest fan and from what he's told me, neither am I. I would stay far away from her."

"Why are you asking about her?" Luke inquired. Simon noncommittedly shrugged and only said that Raphael had mentioned her. Luke nodded thoughtfully, although new creases had appeared on his forehead. "And you've seen him recently? Raphael?"

Just as Simon was about to answer him, the bell above the door chimed. She turned on instinct. Jace walked into the bridal shop, hands shoved in his pockets. She stood up, smoothing out the dress.

He stopped in his tracks, his eyes locked on her. She saw him swallow. "Wow." Was all he said.

"Now you see, Simon," Eliza turned to him, "that's how you're meant to react." She walked over to Jace, kissing the side of his mouth. When she backed away, she saw the dark shadows under his eyes. Despite the chill outside, Jace hadn't bothered with a jacket, wearing only a long sleeve thermal shirt and jeans. "I'm going to go change. Be right back."

Jace's hand fell from hers as she walked away. She went back into her dressing room and carefully pulled the dress from her body. She put it back on the hanger and then in the garment bag. She pulled on her jeans and the dark sweater back on and slipped on her boots. She grabbed her jacket and the garment bag and walked out of the dressing room.

Clary was sitting on the edge of Simon's seat, still in her dress. Her hair was pinned up on her head, light reflecting on little pieces of the sparkling pins holding it in place. There were a few curls that hung down framing her face. She threw her hands in the air. "Karyn got her hands on me."

"What are you doing here?" Eliza asked Jace. "Aren't you supposed to be at a Conclave meeting?"

Luke asked if there was any news about the body they had found in the park. "All we know is that he wasn't a member of the New York Conclave. Neither of the bodies have been identified yet, but the Silent Brothers have them now." Jace told them. He took his hands from his pockets. "Clary, do you still have my jacket? You borrowed it yesterday at the park. I need it back."

Clary motioned to a brown suede jacket slung over the back of one of the white chairs. Eliza had recognized it as Jace's but had said nothing. There was nothing she needed to worry about, not between Jace and Clary. "I was going to send it back with Eliza." She told him.

Jace plucked the jacket up and hurriedly put it on. "And now neither of you have to worry about it." He replied.

She gripped the garment bag, holding it close to her chest. Luke glanced at her before looking back at Jace. "Hey, we're going to Park Slope for dinner. Why don't you join us?" He asked Jace.

Jace deftly zipped up the jacket, saying no. "I have to go. Training." Clary said that they trained yesterday. "And some of us train every single day." He bit back. "See you guys later." He practically vaulted out of the bridal shop without even looking at Eliza.

Luke stood up. He took the garment bag from her. "Weddings make guys nervous." He excused. She smiled uneasily, saying she would be right back.

She put her jacket on and jogged out of the store. Jace was walking down the sidewalk, head ducked down toward the ground. She sped up until she was walking alongside him.

"Jace." She grabbed his arm, stopping him. "What's going on?" She asked softly.

He didn't look back at her. "I have to go, Eliza."

"Is this about the park yesterday?" She asked. "Look, I didn't mean to upset you, but you know how badly the Seelie Queen gets-."

"Eliza, not everything is about you and not everything is about us."

She took a step back, dropping his arm. "Whatever is going on, you can talk to me."

His eyes darkened as he stared at her. "Did you ever stop and think that maybe I wanted to just be alone? Can you, just for five seconds, pull yourself out of your own head and realize that for once, nothing is going on and we're just living our lives. This is how life is when your family isn't around to screw everything up."

If she hadn't heard the words come from his mouth, she wouldn't have ever believed he had actually said what he did. She bit down, locking her jaw. Something inside of her buckled. She wanted to scream, to throw words at him. She wanted to hurt him.

She felt it, the familiar cold creeping in, manifesting inside of her. She hated it. She hated how _good_ it felt. How good it made her feel.

She knew that if she were to look in a mirror, she would have seen the same darkness in her eyes that Jonathan had once had.

"Don't bother calling later." She said, voice surprisingly even. "In fact, don't bother calling me again until you pull that stick out of your ass and adjust your attitude."

She turned on her heel, storming away from him.

* * *

For once, the silence was comforting. There was no eerie feeling that crept over her. She didn't feel the need to look over her back to make sure no one was standing behind her. To make sure Jonathan wasn't standing behind her.

Chairman Meow followed her to her bedroom. She cleaned the pathway to her closet. Her room wasn't as messy as Izzy's room, but it wasn't what Jace considered clean either. There were a few articles of clothing scattered around the room, some unnamed seraph blades on the desk, and several books all over the room. Opening her closet, her eyes immediately drifted to the top of the closet. Hidden behind several duffle bags and a suitcase were two boxes. One was a pretty silver box with two delicate letters, surrounded by falling stars engraved on the lid of the box. Inside of it was an old photograph of a woman and a baby girl, and a silver rattle that had an _S_ on it.

The box had been Jocelyn's, something she had kept for fifteen years after fleeing Idris after the Uprising. The week they had returned from Idris a few weeks ago, Jocelyn had shown up at Magnus' apartment, the box in her hands. She gave the box to Eliza and together they had looked at the old photograph and talked for hours.

The other box, she didn't ever want to open. It was an old and wooden, nothing special to it. The only thing that was in the box was a brown leather-bound journal. It had been her father's, a way for him to write down everything about her. All of her failures over the years, how much he had despised her. He'd kept them for Jonathan too, and she supposed some for Jace as well.

What she'd read of the journal had been heartbreaking enough. He had raised her only out of familial obligation and still, he had hoped she would die. Or fail on a large enough scale that he would be in good enough conscience to kill her. Which, she knew for a fact, she had done.

He had killed her.

The dull ringing of her phone pulled her out of her thoughts. She slammed shut the doors of her closet and went back to the living room. She plucked her phone up from its spot on top of a leaning tower of books.

 _Clary_ , the flashing little screen read.

"Is everything okay?" She answered the call.

"Not really." Clary replied. "I need you to meet us one at the New York Marble Cemetery." Eliza asked who constituted as 'us.' "Me, Luke, and Maryse. Hurry." There was a clicking noise. Clary had hung up on her.

Eliza looked down at Chairman Meow. She had fed him an hour ago, but he always looked at her like she had forgotten to fill his bowl for the third day in a row. "Be back in a bit, little guy." She ruffled the top of his head carefully.

Pocketing her phone, she went back to her room. She grabbed a jacket and stuffed two seraph blades into the inside pockets. Cuffing the braces around her wrists, she put a small throwing knife in each.

Her sword was propped up on the seat of the desk. Deciding against it, she left her room.

It took a cab ride and a short walk for her to reach the cemetery. Clary, Luke, and Maryse Lightwood were waiting for her by a large statue of an angel holding a cup. Raziel.

"I suppose we aren't here to pay respects to anyone?" She asked. "So, who wants to tell me what's going on?"

Clary and Luke looked between each other. Luke explained to her that the dead Shadowhunters that had been discovered throughout the week (now three since another body had been found) were all former members of the Circle. Each body had been found in Downworlder territory.

"And here I thought we were done with all of this nonsense." Eliza mumbled. "What's the plan?" She asked Clary.

Clary relayed the basic details of the plan. It sounded insane, but then again, what part of their lives tipped on the sane level of the scale?

"Okay, then. Let's go." She gestured to the statue of the Angel. Luke said that in order to get in, someone needed to deposit Shadowhunter blood into the cup. Eliza slipped out one of her knives. In a quick motion, she sliced the knife across the palm of her hand. Clary winced, looking away. Eliza held her hand over the cup and squeezed, watching the blood drip into the cup.

Smoke lifted from the cup as her blood sizzled. The ground opened up next to the statue of Raziel, revealing a marble set of stairs leading to the darkness.

Eliza looked back at the three of them. She wiped her knife off on the leg of her jeans before putting it back on her wrist. "Come on." She waved, heading for the stairs.

The marble and the darkness put together made the stairwell colder than the upside of the cemetery had been. After a few quiet minutes, they made it to the bottom of the staircase. A room opened up before them, surrounded with massive pillars made of stone that reached up into the darkness above. Each of the pillars were striped with different kinds of stones, leaving bands of color on them. She recognized some of them- green jade, blue lapis, black onyx, and rose carnelian. Runes were carved onto the floor.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to speak to the Silent Brothers. Stay here." Maryse instructed them. She walked away down a dimly lit hall, leaving them alone in the entry chamber.

"Are we sure this was the best idea?" Luke asked them.

Eliza snorted as Clary answered. "Maybe you could have brought that up before we came all the way down here."

Witchlight torches that hung down from the pillars lit the room. She could see the mausoleums that lined the walls and a shiver passed down her spine. Less than fifteen minutes in and she was already creeped out.

Clary told Eliza that Maryse had cautioned her on the way to the Silent City that the Silent Brothers were under no obligation to let them see the bodies of the dead Shadowhunters. The dead belonged to the guardians of the Silent City and no one else.

Eliza nodded wordlessly. She wondered how many Silent Brothers were actually left. Her father had killed all of the ones that were in the Silent City when he'd stolen thee Angel's Sword. A handful had survived due to not being in the Silent City at the time. The reclusive order had since added more brothers, but she didn't think there were still very many.

In the distance, she could hear the loud and sharp sound of Maryse's heels against the hard floor. Soon enough, Maryse arrived back in the entry chamber, a Silent Brother at her side.

Chills ran down Eliza's body. It wasn't the first time she had seen a Silent Brother, but she sure hoped it would be the last.

"This is Brother Zachariah." Maryse gestured to him. "Brother, these are-."

 _Valentine's daughters. Yes, I see._

Maryse's mouth made an impossibly thin line. "Eliza and Clary. Clary is the child I told you about."

He raised his hands and slid the hood of his robe back slightly. Without the shadow of the hood, she could see that Brother Zachariah didn't look the way normal Silent Brothers did. His eyes were not hollowed, instead they were closed. The sharpness of his cheekbones was marked, a rune on each one. His mouth, not stitched shut at all, was barely parted. She couldn't make it out in the darkness, but it didn't seem that his head was shaved. She couldn't discern whether it was a slight shadow in the darkness or dark hair.

 _Do you honestly believe that you can do this, daughter of Valentine?_

Eliza looked over at her sister. Daughter of Valentine she was not. She had his blood, but she didn't have his fathering. He hadn't raised Clary. She was the daughter of Jocelyn, not Valentine.

"Even down here, I'm sure that the Silent Brothers are aware of everything Clary has done." Luke told Brother Zachariah. "Clary's Binding rune helped us win the Mortal War."

Once again, the Silent Brother shielded his face with the hood of his robe. _Follow me to the Ossuarium._ Eliza put a supportive hand on Clary's shoulder, telling her to go on. _You as well, Eliza Morgenstern._

This time, it was Clary giving support to her. The two of them followed behind Maryse and Brother Zachariah, Luke in the rear. Brother Zachariah made no noise as he walked. He didn't even seem to be touching the floor, it looked more like gliding. Maryse's heels clacked harshly as she walked beside him.

 _That must be where Izzy's affinity for nonsensible footwear stems from,_ Eliza thought.

The hallway curved this way and that between the pillars. They passed the pavilion of the Speaking Stars. On the other side of the pavilion was a high arched doorway, the doors made of iron. The doors had runes burned into them. Death and peace, she recognized.

 _Aren't they the same thing?_ She found herself wondering. _Peace comes with death._

A Latin inscription was carved into the place above the doorway. She stared up at it, squinting her eyes so she could see it better. _Taceant Colloquia. Effugiat risus. Hic locus est ubi mors Gaudet succurrere vitae._

Luke read it aloud, his former Shadowhunter training kicking in. " _Let conversation stop. Let laughter cease. Here is the place where the dead delight to teach the living."_

The words, out in the air for everyone to hear, made her bones cold. Brother Zachariah placed a hand on one of the iron doors, telling them that the most recent of the deceased had been prepared for them.

She still wasn't completely sure what they were doing in the Silent City. Clary had not been forthcoming on any details. But it had something to do with seeing a dead body and she didn't enjoy that aspect of their journey.

 _Are you ready for the body?_ Brother Zachariah asked.

Her mouth went dry. She looked at her sister, hoping that Clary knew what she was doing. Clary said yes.

The heavy iron doors opened to them and they went through. Beyond the doors was a wide room void of windows. The walls were made of a smooth white marble, decorated with silver-made instruments: bone saws, scalpels, rib spreaders, and some kind of hammer like tools. In fact, the room was resident to all sorts of instruments on the walls and the shelves. Vials and jars of colorful liquids, parchments and other papered materials.

Marbled tables were centered in the room. The majority of the tables were empty, three occupied. Two of the three tables had a vaguely human shape concealed by a white sheet. The third was available for viewing.

It was a man, the sheet pulled down to his ribcage. His eyes were covered by a white piece of silk. Eliza could see the variety of Marks that had been etched on his body over the years. Years of protecting the world and a lifetime of sacrifice, all reduced to a lifeless body on a table. The only remnants of his sacrifice being the runes on his skin.

This was what they were reduced to? A body on a slab of marble.

She stood still as Clary moved towards the table, Luke moving in sync with her. Eliza and Maryse stood on the other side of the table, across from Clary and Luke.

Clary leaned over the table and Brother Zachariah removed the silk strip from his eyes. Eliza could see that the man's throat had been ripped into pieces. The wounds had been cleaned, he looked more like a porcelain doll than a man.

As Clary took out her stele and began her work-whatever it was- Eliza felt the entire inside of her turn cold. She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing her eyes straight ahead. Clary worked slowly, black ink pouring from the tip of the stele over pallid skin. Clary's face was pulled together tightly, her skin paling and beading with sweat.

The room was still after she drew back her stele. Eliza couldn't believe what she was seeing when it happened. The dead man's eyes flickered open, blue and speckled with blood.

"By the Angel…" Maryse gasped.

Eliza swallowed, watching the man try to breath, the ragged pieces of skin on his throat moving with his chest. The noise was strangled and wrong, just like his return to life. "It hurts." He managed to say.

Luke said something under his breath and turned away. Maryse stepped closer to the table. "What is your name, Shadowhunter?" She demanded.

His head moved erratically, arms convulsing. "Make it stop. Make the pain stop."

Eliza bit down on her bottom lip. Luke was moving away from the table, Clary looked horrified at what she had done. Maryse asked who had killed the Shadowhunter. He begged for them to make the pain stop. Luke spun, turning his back to them. Maryse grabbed the dead man by the shoulder, commanding him by the Angel to answer her question.

He choked out a series of words. "Vampire. The vampire." Maryse asked which one. " _Camille_."

A spurt of blackened blood came from his mouth and Maryse stumbled backward. Luke stood over the man's head, a jar of dark green liquid in his hands, the lid missing. He threw the liquid over the Mark on the man's arm. He screamed out and Eliza closed her eyes. She could hear the sound of the skin burning. She heard him fall back onto the table.

When she opened her eyes, he was once again dead. Luke chastised Maryse on her treatment of the dead Shadowhunter. "Now that we have a name, we can prevent the deaths of future Nephilim."

Luke put a hand on Clary's shoulders. "I believe it's time to go now."

Eliza let her arms fall to her sides. Luke walked Clary out of the room, Maryse following silently behind them. She went to follow. Brother Zachariah reached out, grabbing onto her wrist.

His hand was cold, skin hardened. She turned, his face flashing, transforming into something else. _Someone_ else.

Edges of dark hair became pale. His skin became dead, a hollowed cheek. Dead and sunken eyes.

 _That which you seek will become your desolation._

He let her go and she saw that he had not changed. "What?" She whispered. "What do you mean?"

 _Exactly as I said, daughter of Valentine._

She swallowed, turning away and walking back to the world of the living.

The entire ride back had been silent. Clary was mortified and Luke was upset at Maryse's composure, or lack thereof. Clary shuddered, pulling her jacket closer to her body. The world was dark, twinkling lights of the city lighting the sky.

"Clary," Luke began, "you know that-."

"Please don't yell at me." Clary said softly. "I know it was wrong."

Luke slowed down. "We didn't know. You thought it would work and so did I."

She zoned out, no longer listening to their conversation about the horrific encounter they had experienced. She could only think of the man, throat torn apart. Begging for anything to relieve the pain his death had brought.

That could have been her.

If she had never been brought back to life, by whatever force had granted her a second chance. If Clary had thought of her rune sooner, back at Lake Lyn. That could have been her, writhing in pain, pleading to Jace and Clary to make the pain in her chest stop.

Brother Zachariah's cryptic words resonated in her mind, over and over again. _That which you seek will become your desolation._ The way he had turned into Jonathan before her eyes. She had to be going crazy.

Jace's bad attitude over the past few days. Kind words drawing her in and cruel ones kicking her back out.

The nightmares.

Jace. Jonathan. Jonathan. Jace.

It was too much. Too much.

"Stop the car." She said.

Luke glanced over at her, Clary squished between them. "What?"

"Stop the car." She repeated. "I need…I need air."

Luke slowed to a stop. The car behind them honked. "Eliza, what are you-."

She vaulted from the cab of the truck, pulling the hood of her cloak up. "Liz!" Clary yelled. The line of cars behind Luke's truck was growing longer. They were both yelling her name. She kept walking, hands shaking at her side.

* * *

Brightly colored lights flashed, the room filled with a hazy smoke. It was hot in the room, the body heat of at least a hundred people piled together, grinding against one another. Her fingers were itching, constantly creeping towards her seraph blade.

She wanted to kill something. She _needed_ to kill something.

It was an urge she found herself having to repress more and more lately. Killing demons was not a bad thing. They brought ruin onto the world and she was doing her duty as a Nephilim by killing them. That was not the issue. The issue was that she liked it too much. She knew that the euphoric high she experienced from shoving a seraph blade through a demon wasn't right. If it felt like that and she knew it was wrong, it was definitely not a good thing.

Pandemonium was the best place to find demons. A trip to the seedy club was never in vain. A demon always died when she entered.

That night would be no different.

Her nose burned with the heavy scent of demon. Death, putrid and raw. She moved aimlessly, no specific target acquired. Search, find, kill.

She spotted a group of Croucher demons. Ten, maybe twelve. They were too inefficient to hunt alone, usually working in small packs. A group of a dozen meant they were looking for something big.

She asserted herself among them, plunging her seraph blade into the back of the smallest. It gained their attention, the last howl of their brother. Or sister. She wasn't sure how that worked. They turned on her, attacking. She took out the second seraph blade and swung her arm around. The blade stuck into the chest of another demon. She jerked it out. They were hissing at her, pinchers clattering in anger. She jumped up into the air, fixating her blades. When she came back down, she jammed the blades into the heads of another two demons.

She moved fast, faster than she had even gone before. Seraph blades were no longer her weapons, instead extensions of her own arms and hands. Each time a blade went in, another high rushed through her. Soon, she was left standing over a pile of dead Crouchers. The seraph blades were covered in dark ichor. She smiled, a breathless laugh escaping her.

She stepped back, wiping the blades on her pants. Her vision flashed and when she looked back at the bodies, they were no longer Croucher demons. They were mundanes, boys and girls. Dead. Covered in blood. Her hands were spotted with it, dark red and thick. She could feel it on her face, the burning of a sin, not of ichor.

"Oh, God."

She blinked, the bodies morphing into Crouchers. Back to humans. Crouchers. Her vision blurred. The music blared in her ears.

She looked around. No one was looking, no one was paying attention. They were ignorant of whatever she had done, continuing on to dance and forget the worries of their lives.

Something caught her eye. A blinding light illuminating a flash of pale blonde hair. Dark eyes sparkled back at her.

Her breath caught. _Jonathan_.

She returned her seraph blades to her belt and pushed through the crowd that separated them. Her heart thudded, ears ringing. No longer was she scared, no, this felt _right_. She knew it was right, deep down, being reunited with her other half. With her brother.

In life and death. Forever. Wasn't that what he had said?

He was moving away from her, walking away, disappearing into the crowd. She lost him.

A terrible sense of longing and dread filled her. It rose up from her gut to her chest, filling her head. And then she saw another demon.


	35. Chapter 35

She woke in an unfamiliar bed. It was not her own, not the one at Magnus' or at the Institute. It was the infirmary at the Institute. Isabelle was perched on the bed across from her, her head resting on her knees.

"Izzy." She sat up, her head going fuzzy, a high noise ringing in her ears.

Izzy's brown eyes widened, and she shot up from the bed. She was still in pajamas, a silk pink robe wrapped around her. Her hair was pulled back by a thick headband. "Thank the Angel. I was worried sick." She handed her a glass of water.

"What…What am I doing here?"

Izzy's shoulders slumped, her features softening. "You don't remember?" Eliza shook her head. "Declan brought you here around five this morning."

Eliza spit out her water. " _Declan_? As in, my vampire ex-boyfriend?" She didn't remember seeing him. In fact, the last time she remembered seeing him was the celebration in Alicante. Almost two months ago.

Izzy nodded slowly. "He said he found you wandering around covered in ichor, muttering about-." She stopped herself, her eyes narrowing. "Anyways, you were unconscious by the time he got you here. You had a fever and were super sweaty. And you really were head to toe in ichor. You might want to shower before returning to civilization."

Eliza finished off the water, putting it on the table. Izzy asked what the last thing she remembered was. "Uh, I remember being with Luke and Clary and then I was at Pandemonium-."

"You went out without me? Rude."

"There were some Croucher demons. Twelve, I think. That's the last thing I remember."

Izzy's eyebrows were raised, and she looked undoubtedly like her mother. "Twelve demons? And you just left them there…?"

She shook her head, remembering how good it felt to kill them. The smooth feeling of her seraph blades slicing into their skin. "I killed them."

" _All_ of them?"

She nodded. "Yeah. All of them."

Izzy's eyes were clouded, expression unreadable. She said nothing for a few moments, a look of hard thought settling on her face. It was soon replaced by one of her easy smiles and brighter eyes. "Get cleaned up and we'll go get something to eat. I'm sure you're hungry."

Izzy walked to the door of the infirmary, no doubt to go change clothes herself. "Isabelle." Eliza called. She turned, her hands on the frame of the doorway. "Is Jace-?"

Her face softened, mouth downturned. "He isn't here, Liz. I'm sorry."

She managed a smile, despite the bitter seed growing in her chest. "Good. Then we don't have to worry about inviting him to breakfast."

* * *

All throughout breakfast, her phone rang. Clary. Her mom. Luke. A circulation of the three of them. Texts came through. Luke and Clary had ratted her out to Jocelyn and now all three of them were blowing up her phone to make sure she was okay.

To each one, she sent a brief message to say that she was fine and at breakfast with Isabelle. It didn't shut them up, but the worried words were somewhat assuaged.

"You should probably tell Magnus." Isabelle said through a mouth-full of pancakes. "About whatever happened to you last night."

Eliza looked over at her through the table. She wasn't as hungry as she had thought she would be. The bacon and eggs in front of her didn't look appealing in the least. "I'm fine."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Liz, you went full on butcher last night. From what it sounds like, you went on a demon killing spree and you don't even remember it."

"It isn't a big deal, Isabelle. You know how it is when you're fighting demons. You black out the fight, it goes so fast."

"You didn't just black out the fight, Liz. You blacked out the entire night. You need to tell Magnus. He can help you."

Her cheeks felt hot, her nostrils flaring. She pushed down whatever words were springing forth. She couldn't yell at Isabelle. She wouldn't. "When he gets back." She promised. "I'll tell him when he gets back. I don't want to ruin their trip."

Izzy nodded, clearly approving of her plan. "So, are you and Jace gonna break up?"

Eliza's head jerked up. She stared back at Isabelle with hard eyes. "Excuse me?"

Izzy dropped her fork. "It's a legitimate question. You two are never around each other lately, I know you're fighting a lot. You two have gone through so much and-."

She cut her off. "Isabelle, to be frank, I do not want to talk about this. Whatever is happening between Jace and I is between the two of us, but to be honest, I don't even know what's going on. I can't begin to know what's going on. He refuses to speak to me, and he's become as cruel as he was when we first met." The Seelie Queen's words echoed in her head. "Maybe he's realized who I am, what I am. Jace could have any girl he wants. Why would he want _me_?" Demon blood, daughter of Valentine. Sister of the murderer of his brother. Monster, liar, demon child.

They were not the same. Jace was light, he was good. Angel blood and sunlight. She was darkness, evil and wrong. It had been doomed from the moment they first saw each other. To think otherwise was ridiculous.

If there was a way to save them, she didn't know it. She wanted to find hope, to see the light at the end of the tunnel. She loved him fiercely, more than you were supposed to love someone else. It was a terrible love, terrible and all-consuming. Standing in the ruins of it was to stand in the middle of a field you yourself had succumbed to the flames and then wondering aloud why it had burnt.

Isabelle was staring back at her, almost as if she didn't recognize her anymore. For months, she had watched Eliza pine after Jace, watch Jace pine after Eliza, even when they had been supposedly related. For weeks, she had watched them act blissfully in love. And now, she was to watch them fall apart. Isabelle knew all that Isabelle was to know: every lie, every action that Eliza had committed had been for the sake of Jace, Clary, and the Lightwood children. Everything she did was to protect them. Somewhere along the way, she had lost herself. From truly losing herself to becoming whatever person sat in front of Isabelle that morning.

Eliza reached over the table, putting her hand on top of Isabelle's. "Don't worry." She said. "Everything will be all right. In the end, we will all be where fate wants us."

* * *

Isabelle was at a concert. What a horribly mundane thing to be subject to. She had all but begged her to go along, even adding in that Simon said Jace would be in attendance. The promise of that made her want to go even less. Izzy had sashayed from the Institute in a silvery dress, her hair done up elaborately. Before she had gone, Eliza made her swear not to tell Jace about the previous night. He couldn't know that she had blacked out and gone on a demon killing spree. "Not that he'll care." She had added. "He doesn't anymore, care about me. But don't tell him. Don't tell anyone."

And so, Izzy had promised not to tell and had left, dizzy-eyed for vampire Simon. The Institute was quiet. So quiet it disturbed her peace of mind. She traded her previous home for that of her current, a long cab ride back to Brooklyn where her most loyal- and hungry- companion awaited her return.

So suddenly Chairman Meow pounced on her once she was through the door, clinging onto her leg. She held him to her chest, scratching the top of his head. "I missed you." She whispered. She put food in his bowl and gave him fresh water.

She was about to settle into a movie on the couch when a knock came on the door. She looked curiously back at the door. Anyone important enough knew Magnus was out of town and no one would be knocking for her.

Unless…

Heart moving erratically, she got up from the couch, whispering for Chairman Meow to stay put. She didn't have any weapons handy. She pulled the door open quickly. Just as fast, her heart fell.

"Clary." She sighed. "I wasn't expecting you."

Her sister was a little damp, despite the raincoat. "I know. Uh, Isabelle called me."

 _Damn it, Isabelle. One job. You had one job_ , she thought. "I'm sure that was enlightening. What did she tell you?"

Clary did not disclose. "Get dressed." She ordered, sounding unusually bossy.

"I am dressed."

Her sister looked her over, clearly displeased with her appearance. "Then change clothes. We're going to a concert."

It clicked. Isabelle had not disclosed their secret, only that she and Jace were not on good terms. And Jace was at Simon's concert.

"Clary, I really don-."

"Jeez, shut up and listen to me, okay?" Clary snapped. Eliza took a step back. "Whatever twisted notion you have in your head about you and Jace, get rid of it. Izzy told me what you said this morning. I know what the Seelie Queen said got to you. I know you think you're some kind of monster, that you're like Jonathan, but you aren't. And Jace loves you. He loves you so much it's kind of terrifying to watch because everyone knows he would do anything for you. He'd kill for you, die for you. So, whatever is going on, we're going to fix it."

She wasn't sure how to respond. Clary had never spoken so curtly to her before. "I'm scared." She admitted quietly. "I don't want to lose him."

Clary gave her a kind smile. "You won't. Let's get you into something that's gonna knock his socks off."

* * *

It was an hour later when they were arriving at a place called the Alto Bar. The rain was pouring down by the time they got inside, and Eliza thanked the stars she had thought to bring an umbrella. It had shielded them from some of the water damage. The ends of her hair were sticking to her neck in damp desperation and her legs were wet.

Clary had stuck to her promise, putting her in an outfit that was sure to stun. Clothes had been pulled from her closet and the outfit settled on consisted of ripped fishnet tights, a short and slinky black dress that would surely make even Isabelle blush, and heeled black boots. Clary had slapped some earrings in her ears and made her wear a necklace. Makeup, as her sister insisted, was a must. Dark makeup around her eyes and a painting of red on her mouth. Reluctantly, Clary had allowed her to bring weapons. Throwing knives tucked on the braces around her wrists and a seraph blade tucked under her dress.

Simon's band was already playing when they entered. She didn't know anyone in the band except for Simon, but something about his band felt off. "Let's find Isabelle." Clary grabbed her wrist, leading her through the crowd. If Isabelle was there, it meant Maia wasn't. Simon was being very careful in which girlfriend he invited and brought along to certain things.

"Clary, Liz! Over here!" She could faintly hear the familiar sound of Izzy's voice over the music. Izzy had planted herself at a table close to the stage. Clary dragged her over and they sat down with Isabelle. "You guys look pretty dreary. Still raining hard?"

"Unfortunately." Clary smiled ruefully.

Isabelle asked why Clary had decided to come, as there had supposedly been wedding stuff to tend to. Eliza also chimed in, stating that she wanted an answer as well. She did not want to be there and would have much preferred staying in and watching a movie with the cat. Both girls rolled their eyes at her and Clary relayed that Jocelyn was feeling a little under the weather. Clary asked how the show was going before they got there.

Isabelle fiddled with her drink absent-mindedly. "Okay, I suppose. The new lead singer, he is _fine_." She emphasized this with a great clarity. "Maybe he's single. I would love-."

Clarry cut her off with a surprised gasp of her name. The two argued for a few minutes of the schematics of Isabelle's interest in Simon, which seemed greater than she let on.

She let her eyes wander over the crowd. For the most part, they seemed to be enjoying the music. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't fantastic either. Curious about Izzy's fascination with the singer, she decided to focus on the band. He was attractive, she had to give him that. Someone moved off the side of the stage, catching her eye.

Jace, she realized. It was Jace. She knew he would be there, but still the sight of him took her off guard. He was dressed irregularly, like a mundane, in a dark tee shirt and jeans. His own gaze moved around the room like he was searching for something. For someone.

It couldn't be her, she realized. As far as she knew, he had no idea she was going to be there. The intensity of the look worried her. He was on a mission and she didn't know what for.

"Go." Isabelle said, calling back her attention. Both the other girls were looking at her. "You need to talk to him."

Clary nodded in agreement. "Remember what we talked about." Her little sister, coaching her in the affairs of men. What a sight. Hell had frozen over for sure.

"You talked. I was made to listen."

Clary waved a hand. "Go."

She slid out from her seat. The encouraging looks they were giving her were enough. She was going to give him a piece of her mind. He had absolutely no right to jerk her around like a rag doll, mess with her emotions. Play good boyfriend- bad boyfriend all in a matter of days. He had to be set straight. Either buckle down and fix the problem or never see each other again.

There could be no in between. If it was over, it had to be over. She would never stop loving him, so being acquaintances was completely out of the question. She'd have to move away and never return.

Which, that in its own did not sound horrible, part of her realized. The part that longed for something else. It was usually kept at bay, but the impending doom of her relationship brought it to full force. With Jace out of the picture, she was free to-.

She was snapped from her thoughts at the realization that she was close to him. She could always tell from the way her entire body began to heat up and her heart knew to start racing. He was only feet from her, leaned against a pillar behind the stage. At that, every brave thought washed away. All she could think of was how scared she was to lose him.

He was beautiful, graced with a beauty no human could bear. But upon closer inspection, she saw the rings of exhaustion around his eyes, dark circles of sleepless nights. His skin was tautly pulled over his face, worn and grim.

Slowly, too slowly, he looked over. Pale golden eyes skimming until they landed on her. Under his gaze, she felt like an ant under a microscope held under the ray of sun. She saw a light rise in his eyes. And then it was gone, replaced by a colorless face and dim eyes.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "This is the last place I expected to see you."

No "Hi, I missed you," or "You look beautiful". Not even an apology for his avoidance of her or his nasty behavior as of late.

Anger flared in her. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from saying something mean. "Is that why you came? Because you didn't expect me to be here?"

"No, Li-."

"Save it, Jace." She cut him off. She couldn't help it. Whatever it was inside of her was too strong. The anger, the hurt, all of it. It came over her suddenly and with a ferocity that knew no bounds. "If you were planning to break up with me, you could have said it to my face. Or called. Or texted. Literally anything instead of avoiding me and refusing to speak to me."

His eyes darkened. "Jesus, why the hell does everyone think I'm going to break up with you?" He hissed. She stared back at him, not sure what to say. "First Simon and then Luke and now-."

She stopped him again. "Why is it you can talk to everyone else about our relationship, but you can't talk to me? The person you're _in_ a relationship with!"

"I can't." He said simply, as if it were the most well-known thing in the world. "I can't talk to you. I can't be with you. Hell, I can't even look at you."

The severity of his words sunk into her skin like bullets. "Oh." She said thickly. "Well then, that solves that." She wasn't sure how the words had come out so evenly, so calm.

He stared back at her, his mouth opened slightly as if he couldn't believe he had just said the words that came from his lips.

She turned around, pushing someone from her way. She felt as if she were on fire, and not in the good way. The further from him she walked, the more she burned.

* * *

It was coming down in a torrential downpour. A rain to rival the flood of Noah. Even a flood of that caliber would not drown her sorrow, wash away her sins.

She should have known. She should have seen it coming. The Seelie Queen had said so herself. Binding and love were not the same. Love and desire were not the same. They were bound. She loved him, but he was only bound. They desired one another. She loved him, but he only desired.

She herself had been right. He was the blood of angels. She was the blood of demons. Wrong and impure. A stain upon humanity and Nephilim alike. Demon child.

And he couldn't even look at her.

She felt like she should have been crying. Weren't girls supposed to cry when they were dumped by boyfriends who were repulsed by their entire being? And yet, all she felt was anger. Heartbreak had been pushed so far down, only anger rose.

Her hair was plastered in wet tendrils to her face and neck, the dress sticking to her like a second skin. The cool of the rain had turned the iron braces cold on her wrists. Goosebumps covered her arms and legs.

Someone grabbed onto her arm, spinning her around. She reared back to throw a punch before realizing it was Jace. Just like her, he was soaked from the rain. "I was yelling for you." He said.

She tried to jerk from him, but he held her in place. "Let me go." She snarled. "Jace, let me go before I snap your arm."

She meant it. And she knew that he knew she meant it. But still he did not budge. "Not until we talk." His head swiveled in each direction before he hauled her off to the deserted alley beside the bar. She could hear the music from inside, a dull thrum of sound. There were broken pieces of musical equipment scattered around the alley.

"Now you want to talk?" She barked out a laugh. "Now that you can stand the idea of looking at me?" He opened his mouth and she took the advantage to yank her arm free of him. "Don't waste your breath apologizing. I don't see or hear from you for days. When I do, you're rude and, to be honest, hurtful. And then you tell me that you can't talk to me because you can't even bear to look at me? What a class act you are, Jace Wayland. So, what, did you think that the demon blood was going to magically disappear when you murdered my brother? Did you believe that the monstrous and evil parts of me were going to die with him? And then, when you realized that I'm still as much of a monster now, you couldn't even bear to tell me that you didn't want to be with me? _Save. Your. Breath_." She huffed out a breath, feeling somewhat better.

He looked back at her, his eyes perplexed. Water fell from his eyelashes, running down his cheeks. She couldn't tell if he was crying or if it was just the rain. "I've been at Simon's. I'm trying to help him." That was the excuse she got. _Simon_! Jace didn't even like Simon! What a load of bullshit.

"You could have called. Or texted." She said coolly. "Anything would have been better than this miserable silence you've subjected me to. I mean," she wondered if she should say the words or not, they were on the tip of her tongue, and she knew if she said them, it would hurt him, "I needed you more than ever and you weren't there. I _needed_ you, Jace, and you weren't there."

His eyes seemed to fully focus then. He seemed more alert, more aware. "What do you mean? What happened? Are you okay?"

She laughed hollowly. "Like it matters to you. Don't pretend to care anymore."

"Liz, stop. Just let me explain-."

"Explain?" She almost yelled. "What the hell do you need to explain to me?" She was angry, more than angry. This was an emotion she couldn't control, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. "I don't want to hear an explanation of why you don't love me anymore. I don't want an explanation of why we can't be together. I want an expl-."

He was kissing her, backing her against the wall of the alley. Kissing her in a way that should have been an eighth deadly sin. Part of her was screaming to push him away, to hit him, and yell at him. A bigger part of her, the unreasonable part, fought to kiss him back.

Unsurprisingly, that part won.

Her hands held around his neck with urgency, to keep him there, right with her. Keep him close. His skin was slick with water. Her lips suffered at the ravenous way he kissed her, like a starving man eating his first meal in days.

She broke away from him, an action that took incredible control. It was like pulling yourself off an electric fence. "Tell me." She whispered. Any anger had dissipated, gone back to the dark crevice it took refuge in. "You have to tell me what's wrong." Her fingers slid through his wet hair. "Why did you say those things, Jace? Why can't you speak to me or…why can't you look at me?"

 _Is it all of the reasons I listed off?_ She wanted to ask but was too afraid of the answer.

When he looked back at her, his eyes were bright. Stunningly gold. Drops of water dotted his face, dropped from his lashes to his lips. "Because…Liz…Because I love you."

She wondered if that would have made any sense to anyone else because it sure as hell didn't make any sense to her. And she said so.

"Nothing makes sense anymore, Eliza. And the way I love you, that makes the least sense of all. I can't live without you. I won't. You understand, don't you? That it's killing me."

To understand, all she had to do was look at him. See the remnants of sleep deprivation under his eyes, the hollow of his cheeks. It made no sense, and yet, it made all the sense in the world. His eyes closed as she traced over the sharpness of his cheekbones.

"Do you hate me?" His eyes opened. There was a vulnerability she hadn't expected. "Tell the truth. I'll understand if you say yes."

She cupped his face, leaning forward to press a small kiss to his mouth. "Never will I hate you. Always will I love you."

He pushed back against her, his mouth once again falling upon hers. His hands, once slow and steady, now became rough and rampaged. They journeyed over her, gripping at her hips, her thighs, her neck. Through the holes of her tights, she felt the cold of his hands grazing over her legs, releasing a shiver through her body.

His lips were just as rough, devouring every part of her.

She let her hands wander, roaming under his shirt. Heat radiated from him and she could feel the thud of his heart. There was the thick cord of muscle that ran under his skin, evidence from years of training. Her hands hesitated at the band of his jeans. Her touch at the low part of his stomach had made him jerk, a low noise coming from his throat.

Something clanged, the high metallic noise ringing through her ears. Jace yanked himself away from her. She looked down at the opening of the alley. Isabelle was standing there, looking more like a disapproving mother than a girl their own age.

"Seriously?" She sighed. Her gaze was heavy and unrelenting. "Out here, really? You couldn't have gotten like a hotel room or something? Gone back home?"

Eliza felt the creeping of embarrassment take over. She looked back at Jace. He was staring at Isabelle, a horrible look on his face, as if he had just been violently awakened from a dream.

"We're looking for Simon, me and Clary. She went to look somewhere else. He ran off the stage and we don't know where to." It was quiet, the only sound she heard being the rain and the beating of her own heart. "Well, I'm going to go look for him. You two go back to desecrating that brick wall." With a finality only Isabelle could muster, she turned on her heel and disappeared.

When she looked back at Jace, her heart sank. Gone was the moment they had shared, she could see it in his eyes. The void expression on his face. Whatever lapse of judgement he had suffered, it had clearly been salvaged.

She reached for him, to grab his hand, but he stared at her with such abhorrence, she took a step back. "Jace, what-?"

He spoke, his words ragged and raw, "I can't." He took off, refusing her the chance to call his name before he disappeared into the rain.

She looked up at the sky, water falling in her eyes. She felt the familiar feeling rise up within her, fingers twitching at her sides. Her eyes flashed dark and for a second, she swore she heard Jonathan calling her name. But when she looked back at the mouth of the alley, it was empty.

* * *

The text from her sister had been cryptic at best. **Need you to meet me. 232 Riverside Drive.**

She didn't bother to ask questions. Lately, Clary had a way of doing things on her own. She was getting better.

It wasn't that far a drive from Magnus'. After gathering weapons, she hailed a cab and sat silently until she was dropped off.

Clary was waiting outside of a square shaped building, complete with a pointed roof. "This is creepy." She told Clary, waving her hand. The building was surrounded by expensive looking apartment buildings, but the one in question seemed too old-fashioned to be in place.

"Yeah. I know. Thanks for coming." She said. Before Eliza could say anything else, Clary's phone began ringing. "Simon, hold on." She listened as the two talked. Simon wanted to know if Clary had been kidnapped and then began rattling on about how Maia and Isabelle had found out about each other at the concert. Neither of them were speaking to him. While they talked, Eliza pushed open one of the doors, the metal handle cold in her grip. Inside, she could see what looked like a church. Candles flickered in the darkness. Clary looked over her shoulder and told Simon she'd call him back.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Clary asked quietly.

Eliza glanced back at her. "Clary, this was _your_ idea." She said she knew that, but that didn't mean it was a good idea. "There aren't any bad ideas. Let's just hope it doesn't turn into what Jace believes is a situation. I don't think I can deal with that today."

She opened the door further and the two of them walked in. The door shut quietly behind them and the world fell in silence. Chills covered her body and her hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

Pews lined the narrow aisle they walked down. The only light came from thickly made brown candles on the walls. There were no windows. They walked up to the apse, finding an altar set upon the podium.

Eliza looked back, surveying the church. No crosses. No displays of the Holy Trinity of any form. "Clary. I don't think this is a real church…" She whispered.

"No kidding." Clary replied. She was eyeing something on the altar, a stone-made tablet topped with a carving of an owl. "Come look at this."

Eliza joined her at the altar. Words had been carved into the tablet. _For Her House Inclineth Unto Death, And Her Paths Unto The Dead. None That Go Unto Her Return Again, Neither Take They Hold Of The Paths Of Life._

Her gut twisted. The passage seemed familiar, but she couldn't recall from where she knew it. "Something in the book has been marked." Clary pointed out. She leaned down to open the book, pulling out the bookmark. It was not a bookmark, but a dagger. She handed it to Eliza.

"It's an _athame_." Elisa observed. The blackened hilt had been mutilated, different symbols etched into it. "They're used to summon demons, more often than not." She twirled it over her fingers. "What's in the book?"

Clary said she wasn't sure. Eliza looked over her shoulder, seeing that the book was written in a language she didn't know. What really caught her eye, was the illustration above the words. It pictured a summoning circle, just like the kind she had seen Magnus draw time and time again. He had explained that the circle helped to concentrate magic. Two circles flanked a square, runes drawn around the shapes. She didn't even recognize the runes, but she recognized the sinking feeling in her stomach. Underneath the feeling, came another one. Stronger and easily recognized. A familial sort of recognition, the same feeling she had felt when she recognized Sebastian as Jonathan.

Trying to get rid of the feeling, she flipped the page over. The illustrations on the next page were worse. There was a woman standing, a bird on her left shoulder. The bird looked familiar, like Hugin or Munin. She bit down on her lip. The next picture was the same woman, sans bird. Her stomach was swollen with pregnancy. The third illustration showed the woman was strewn in the middle of an altar. There was a figure hovering over her, a syringed needle filled with a dark liquid that looked like blood. The woman was screaming.

The last picture showed the woman with an infant in her arms. It was a beautiful child, save for the fact that its eyes were holes of darkness. The woman stared down at her child with horror.

Eliza felt sick. She knew this, more than she wanted to. She knew that after they were born, her eyes and Jonathan's eyes had looked like that.

"Liz…" Clary murmured.

"We have to go." Eliza said quickly. She put the _athame_ on the altar and grabbed Clary by the wrist. She felt wrong all over. They shouldn't have come. It may not have been what Jace clarified as a situation, but it had not been a good idea at all.

They turned around, greeted by a new sound. A quiet rustling from above. Both of their heads lifted slowly. The galleries above were not empty, filled with dozens of figures. They were wearing…velour tracksuits? The hoods of the dark grey jackets were pulled over their faces, hooding any identifying features. Their hands were curled around the railing, mouths moving in silence.

"We're just going. Sorry to intrude." Clary called up. They gave no answer. "We're leaving now."

Eliza half-turned to grab the _athame_ , planning to make Magnus inspect it upon his return. Her nostrils caught the scent of something disgusting, a foul and putrid scent that burned her nose. She spun back around, a wall of darkness blocking the exit. She could make out scales, teeth that resembled her knives, and long grasping claws.

Somewhere, she heard Clary scream.

* * *

" _Run!_ " She shoved Clary back. Something behind her fell and she tightened her hold on the hilt of the _athame_. "You picked the wrong day to mess with me." She growled. She launched the _athame,_ seeing it stick into one of the three of the demon's heads. The demon squalled, yanking out the dagger and flinging it to the floor.

It moved faster than she would have thought possible, knocking her out of the way. It lunged towards the altar for Clary.

She took out her sword, the blade glinting in the dim light of the candles. "Clary, get the _athame_!" She yelled.

She saw Clary scrambled from the altar and grab the dagger. She jammed it into the neck of one of the heads. Ichor splayed everywhere. The blow did no damage, the scaly skin beginning to form back over.

Clary stumbled down the stairs, the demon running after her, seeming to forget about Eliza's presence. Eliza jumped towards the demon, slicing her sword down its back. The demon howled, ichor spraying onto her face, sizzling into her skin.

" _Go to hell_." Eliza gritted, jamming the sword back into its' back. She heard something sink into flesh and the demon began to fall limp. She pulled the sword out, stepping to the side as it fell back. The _athame_ was stuck into the middle head, right down to the hilt. It continued to move after falling, sluggish and half-dead.

Above, she could hear the shuffle of several feet. She looked up to see that the figures were gone. Clary looked back at her, a look of relief molding into confusion. "Liz…Your eyes…"

"No time. We gotta go." Eliza curled her hand around her wrist. A large shape leapt over them, blocking their exit. The demon hissed at them, advancing on them.

A flash of silver and gold whipped between them and the demon. It wrapped around the two remaining heads and pulled taut. In a blink, the heads were separated from the body. Ichor went everywhere. The remains of the demon vanished into the air, leaving only a foul odor behind.

Eliza looked back at the doors of the church, pushed open. Isabelle was in the middle of the entrance, her black dress swaying around her. Her electrum whip was glittering around her arm. She was looking back at them with a wild grin. "What the hell are you two into now?" She asked.

"How…?" Eliza gaped, her words getting lost. "How did you know we were here?" Isabelle finished winding her whip around her arm. She said that Clary had texted and said to meet them, but she was running behind. "Well, thank God you finally showed up."

* * *

They were staring back at her, uncomfortable expressions on their faces. They were camped out in her room at the Institute. Clary and Isabelle were on her bed and she was leaned against the dresser. Isabelle had patched them up, putting salve on the places the ichor had burned and bandaging Clary's cuts.

"You can't tell anyone." She said softly. "I mean it. No one can know. _No one_." She told them.

Clary and Izzy shared a concerned look. "We don't even know what you're going to tell us. We can't swear to something without knowing it." Clary said.

Eliza shifted. "The journal we found at Wayland Manor. I have it."

"You mean…?" Clary murmured.

She nodded. "The one about me. It details everything. I kept it, even though I knew I should burn it." Izzy asked what was so important about a book. "It's what's in it, Izzy. He wrote down everything. He kept them for all of us. Me, Jonathan, Jace. Every accomplishment, every disappointment, every punishment. This book…it contains what he did to me. It's proof of what he did to all of us. Some of the things he says about me…they're true."

Izzy protested. "Liz, we all know he's wrong. We know you. You aren't weak or a traitor. You're a good person." Izzy told her.

She shook her head, saying that wasn't what she meant. "Izzy, some of the things he says, they aren't what you think. He says I'm a monster and he's right. I have these moments where I don't feel right, I know it isn't me, but I've never felt more like myself. It happens when I'm angry or when we're hunting. It gets worse when I kill demons. And sometimes…sometimes, my eyes change. I've seen it. They're like his eyes were, Jonathan's eyes. They're dark, black. Soulless."

They didn't speak his name, in fear of desecrating the Institute. He had murdered Max Lightwood. He had nearly killed Izzy. He had nearly killed a lot of people.

"The nightmares, they come every night now." She continued. "It's Jonathan, it's always Jonathan. And the other night, I saw him. I swear I saw him at Pandemonium."

Isabelle straightened, immediately knowing what she was talking about. "The night you blacked?"

Clary's brow furrowed. "Wait, what are you talking about?" She asked, looking between them. "Did you get drunk?" She asked Eliza. Together, Eliza and Isabelle explained the events from a few nights before. The Croucher demons, the apparition of Jonathan, Declan, the memory loss.

"Something is wrong with me." Eliza admitted. "I don't know what, but it's getting worse and I can't stop it. But I know that whatever we saw in the church, it has something to do with it. And with what you told us." She looked at Clary.

Clary had relayed a ton of information. She had gotten a call from a warlock at Beth Israel and there was a dead baby in the morgue. Black eyes and claws for hands. She had gotten an image of a rune in her mind that led her to the Church of Talto on Riverside.

"Someone is experimenting on babies, trying to recreate what happened to Jonathan and I. But they're doing it with mundanes. We need to figure out who it is." Eliza said. It couldn't be Valentine, he was dead. Maybe one of his followers who had known the full extent of his craziness. Hodge was out of the question. And so was Marisol.

Isabelle shuddered. "Why would anyone want to make more things like Sebastian?" She grimaced hatefully. Upon realizing what she had said, she gave a sympathetic look to Eliza. "Sorry, you know what I mean. You aren't like him at all."

Eliza nodded slowly. Isabelle had meant well by her words, but she clearly hadn't retained the severity of what Eliza had told her. She was turning into Jonathan, slowly and surely. Maybe Jocelyn had been right. Maybe things turning south with Jace were the reason.

"Jonathan. His name is Jonathan." Clary told Isabelle.

Isabelle's eyes narrowed in contempt. "No, it isn't. That's Jace's name. The monster that murdered Max will always be Sebastian to me." For Isabelle, it was easier to separate them that way. She had always known him as Sebastian. She had always known Jace's name to be Jonathan.

But he would never be Sebastian to her. He would always be Jonathan.

"Everyone is with the Conclave and I couldn't stand to go. Simon is with them and I currently hate him." Isabelle told them. For good reason.

Clary and Eliza raised her eyebrows. "Why is Simon with the Conclave?" Clary asked. Izzy shrugged, saying something about vampires. Clearly, she was not interested. "Is he okay? Do you know?"

Isabelle's face turned to stone as she looked back at Clary. "He's a big boy vampire now, Clary. He has the Mark of Cain to protect him." Her eyes shifted to a darker tone. "I guess you knew about Maia, since you didn't ask why I hate him."

Clary said yes quietly. Izzy turned to Eliza. Evenly, Eliza admitted that she threatened to expose him if he hadn't confessed by the wedding.

"It's fine. I guess I just assumed Simon would take it seriously since I'm so out of his league, you know? I just expected better from him." Clary muttered something about Izzy thinking she was out of his league. Izzy chose not to respond, changing the subject. "Speaking of rocky relationship roads, what's the deal with you and Jace?" She inquired to Eliza. "Minus whatever moment the two of you were sharing at the concert."

Eliza's cheeks went hot. It was no secret that they were not on good terms at the moment. She hadn't spoken to him since he had darted away from her at the concert. "I don't know." She admitted quietly.

Isabelle leaned forward, clearly more interested than before. "All right then I have one question. Have you guys had sex yet?"

"Izzy!" Clary smacked her arm. "You can't just ask that."

Izzy looked offended that Clary had scolded her. Eliza stared back at Isabelle, shocked at her blatancy. "I don't really see what that has to do with this." She said softly.

Izzy gave Clary a knowing look. "That means they haven't done it yet." She turned back to Eliza, eyes glinting. "It doesn't have anything to do with it, I just wanted to know if you were banging my brother. But now I really want to know what's keeping you from it. I mean, the two of you were going pretty hot and heavy in the alley." Izzy paused, her mouth working curiously. "Are you…? I mean, have you ever…?" She trailed off, suspicion lurking in her gaze.

Clary gawked at Isabelle. Eliza merely rolled her eyes. "I'm not really sure what part of locked away in a cottage with my psycho family you forgot." She reminded her. Uncomfortably, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Jace was my first kiss and he's my first boyfriend. We've come close but we've never sealed the deal. I don't know why." She shrugged in a non-committal way. "Do you know if he's ever…you know…?" Surely Izzy would know. She knew everything. She retained gossip like a sponge.

Izzy nodded thoughtfully. "I'm sure he has. I mean, it's Jace." That in itself gave an entire answer. Jace was attractive and he knew it. He could be devilishly charming when he wanted to be. "Not that it's a big deal to him, waiting. I'm sure that's not what the issue is."

Izzy didn't sound completely convinced of her argument.

Eliza did not wholly believe that was the problem. Then again, she didn't know what the problem even _was_.

"He hasn't said anything, has he? He hasn't told you what's been going on with him?" Eliza's voice shifted, sounding unusually unsure of herself. Izzy said no. "Do you know if he's okay? For the most part."

The dark-haired girl gave her a very grim look. There was no part that gave Eliza hope for a positive answer. "He's definitely not okay. And neither are you."

* * *

It was not the same. Not this time.

 _The sun blazed down on her, wholly and completely unforgiving. Sweat trickled down, beads falling down her face, down her back. It was hot, too hot. When she looked up, she realized there was no sun. Only ash. Beneath her feet, ash._

 _The world was dark, made of charred remains. She swallowed, her throat dry with thirst._

 _"I knew you would come." A voice said from behind her. "You always come."_

 _Slowly, she turned around. The voice had once filled her with dread, but now it brought a sense of completeness. With him, she was whole again._

 _He stood before her, alive and whole. Pale hair that shined in the non-existent sun. Abyssal black eyes. Cream skin, unblemished, healthy. Jonathan, beautiful and glorious._

 _"Are you real?" She asked, stepping forward. Her hand reached out, grazing against his cheek. His skin was warm. "This is a dream." She observed. He was dead, after all._

 _"Is it? How can you be sure?" His eyebrow raised inquisitively._

 _"You're dead. That's how I know it isn't real."_

 _He held her hand up, holding it against his own. His fingers, long and slender like hers, curled over the top of her fingertips. "Don't I feel real, Eliza?"_

 _He did. He did feel real. He felt alive._

 _"Jace killed you. He cut through your spine. He pierced your heart. I saw. You went down the river. You're dead."_

 _His face had twisted at the mention of Jace. He spat on the ashen ground. "Jace, the bastard son." His hand curled around hers, holding onto it so tightly she thought he meant to break it. "He separated us! He took you from me and he murdered me so he could have you to himself!"_

 _The anger and the hurt in his words shook the world._

 _"Jonathan, you're hurting me. Please let me go." She said quietly._

 _Instantly, he released her. "I'm sorry." He had never apologized before. "It's just us now that Father is gone. You, me, and Mother."_

 _Mother. Jocelyn. He hated her. "She's here? Is Clary here?" Her head turned, eager to find her mother or sister._

 _Jonathan grinned back at her. "She's so glad you're finally here. I'll take you to her." Taking back her hand, he led her down the road. The world seemed familiar, yet unknown at the same time. There were no trees, no other people. In the distance, shadowed figures moved in silence. She asked where they were. "Home." He said, as if her question were ridiculous._

 _They walked in silence until they reached wherever he had aimed to take her. On the ground was a summoning circle. Something prickled in the back of her mind. In the middle of the circle was a woman. Her hair was long and dark. She had pale white skin, the color of fresh milk._

 _"Mother." Jonathan announced himself. "She has finally arrived. We can be a family now."_

 _The woman turned. She had a beautiful face. Her eyes were hollowed holes, thick black snakes protruding through them. Her mouth spread into a wide smile. "Welcome home, my daughter."_

She didn't move upon waking. She didn't know how. Her mouth was dry, her skin clammy, breath ragged. She didn't close her eyes, in fear of seeing the woman again.

Her hand jutted out, grabbing her phone from across the bed.

Her phone said it was after seven in the evening. A _nap_? She didn't remember going to sleep. Then again, she had been so exhausted lately, sleep had probably just overtaken her. She hadn't left the Institute. Clary had decided to stay and upon reflection, they decided it was better for Jocelyn to be mad at both of them for breaking the rules.

And in her defense, the odds of her even seeing Jace were a zillion to one.

Which was why, when she noticed him leaning against her desk, she almost screamed.

He was, of course, handsome as ever, much as she hated to admit it. He had on gear, which she thought was strange since it was a little early for him to go demon hunting. He didn't look very well, worse than he had the last time she had seen him. His face was shadowed by the bruises under his eyes, the hollows of his cheeks and temples.

She sat up, almost moving to fix her hair before deciding against it.

"Are you an idiot?" That was the first thing he decided to say. "Fighting off a Hydra demon, just you and Clary? Seriously, Lizzie, if Isabelle hadn't showed up, you could've died. What the hell were you thinking?"

Her mouth almost fell open. He had no right to scold her. She got up from the bed, staring back at him contemptuously. "If you recall, I'm one of the best Shadowhunters. I am perfectly capable of taking care of me and my sister." He started to speak again, and she shook her head. "Do _not_ come in here and pretend to be concerned for my well-being when it hasn't been your concern for days. I am not in the mood to play this game with you today."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Lizzie, if something had happened to you, I don-."

It happened. The anger took over. It welled up inside her so strong that she felt her heart was going to explode. "I said _don't_ , Jace!" She shouted. He flinched at her volume. "Listen to me right now. You do not get to tell me that you can't stand the sight of me and then tell me that you can't live without me and then run off. You do not get to stand here in my room and ask about my life when you haven't given a damn about it in days! Whatever the hell is the matter with you, you need to tell me or figure it out. Or so help me God, Jace Wayland, you will regret it."

His lips parted. His brow was furrowed. He was studying her the way someone studied a stranger. She looked past him, staring at herself in the mirror. She realized what he was seeing. Eyes. Dark as coal.

She spun around quickly, taking several deep breaths. She pushed the anger down as far as it would go.

"Liz?"

When she turned back around, she saw that her eyes were normal again. "You are making me crazy." She said to him. "But I meant every word I said."

His shoulders slumped. They were encompassed by a long and ugly silence, staring back at one another. "I know." He finally spoke. "The way I've been acting isn't fair to you. I don't have any right to be in here, but I needed to see that you were okay. Isabelle said you weren't feeling well, and I had to check on you. You don't take naps."

No, she didn't. "Yeah, well, I don't sleep anymore at night."

"Nightmares." He remembered.

But now they had seeped into her naps. There was no escaping.

"I'm fine." She assured him. "Some ichor burns on my face, but they're gone now. Maybe a bruise or two still fading away." And the heartache. Ever constant, always growing. "Nothing to concern yourself with."

"I'm always concerned when it comes to you. You're the most important person to me, Lizzie."

Another flare of anger shot through her. She tried to hold it together, her hands twisting into fists. "Then, damn it, Jace, act like it."

He took a step forward. She took a step back. Forward. Back. Until her legs bumped against her bed. He was closer than he had been. "Can I check your bruises? To make sure they're healing."

Knowing better, she relented. She raised her shirt. The only physical evidence left on her from the fight was a large bruise against her ribcage where the demon had shoved her aside. It had been a yellowed color, but now it was blue and purple. There was another on her waist, on the other side, where she had been knocked into the edge of the podium.

"Just bruises." She whispered. "I'll be okay."

Their eyes met. His fingers trailed lightly over her ribs, his hand placing itself on the uninjured side of her waist. The other fingered the ends of her hair, pushing the strands back behind her ear. "You needed me." He repeated her words from their last encounter. "I never thought that you would need me. I've always been the one that needs you."

"When have I ever not needed you, Jace?" She asked quietly.

The color of his eyes lightened, and his shoulders fell, the weight of whatever he carried seemingly lifted. If only a little. He held her jaw in his hand, thumb moving lightly over her cheek. "What's wrong with me, it isn't about you." He told her. "All those things you said, you were wrong. How I feel about you, how I love you, it will never go away. I swear." She asked the reason for his behavior. Surely, he wasn't just doing it for attention. "Everything is catching up to me now. What happened in Idris. I tried to forget, to push through it. But I couldn't." It was not all sunflowers and rainbows, being beaten to a pulp by a crazy demon boy and then killing him, getting stabbed by the man who raised you, and then being resurrected by the Angel Raziel himself.

Unless you were Eliza, and then you didn't know how you came back to life.

"I swear, Lizzie, I'll be better from now on. I'll get help. I swear on the Angel."

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, her nose against his throat. "On the Angel." She murmured.

She felt him nod. "I swear on us, Liz. Me and you. Everything we've been through. Everything we'll go through." There was a blind hope in his voice, hope for a future. Their future.

She remembered a dream she had had once. Of their future. Marriage and children. A home full of love and happiness.

"Do you think about it, the idea of us getting married?" She asked quietly. It wasn't something she herself had ever entertained. There hadn't ever been the time. And lately, she had never had to think about it. She just knew it would be.

"Yeah. Sometimes." He admitted. He drew back, his hands moving. One on the back of her left hand and the other over her heart. She could feel the heat of his hand through her shirt. "The runes go here. One on each spot." He told her.

She knew this. She had dreamt it. How steadily their hands moved, because they weren't nervous. There was no need to be nervous. " _Set me as seal upon then heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death_." She said softly. A love strong as death. He had died and so had she. And they each had returned to life. "Stronger than death." She amended.

She drew him down, his mouth settling against hers. His hands had moved slowly, cupping her face. When she pulled away, he protested by a soft noise. She took his hand, leading him to the bed. Wordlessly, she pulled off his shirt, letting herself marvel at him. He sat on the edge of her bed as she stood in front of him. She dropped his shirt to the floor.

"Liz?"

She shushed him as she took off her shirt, tossing it somewhere unseen. He went rigid. A hand on his shoulder, she placed herself on his lap. Isabelle's words rang in her ears. She pushed them away. Her fingers traced over the star-shaped scar on his shoulder. Clary had one as well. Evidence they had encountered an angel. The Angel. She did not have one. Marks of the Angel were not for children of demon's blood. Or so she assumed.

Lightly, gracefully, her fingers went over his collarbone, up to his jaw, over his mouth. To his hair.

"Is this a punishment or a reward?" His voice was languid and hoarse. "Because if it's a punishment, consider me thoroughly repentant. And if it's a reward…" He trailed, voice dropping to silence.

She didn't answer. She only kissed him. He responded instantly, pulling her as close as he could. He stood, holding her to him and laid her on the bed. He hovered over her, propped on his elbows. Her hands buried themselves in his hair, his were firm on her body, ever moving. Arms, stomach, thighs. Anything he could touch he did.

Nothing else mattered. Only him. Only her. Only them. The fact that they were there.

They became one, a twisted array of legs and arms. Roped together like vines.

She felt his hand skim over the back of her bra, his finger on the clasp. She looked up at him and he was looking back at her, waiting for permission or denial. She whispered a quiet yes.

He seemed to draw back, just a fraction of an inch and she wondered why. Did he _not_ want to see her without a bra on? She thought all guys wanted that. Had that not been the point of his questioning look, to ask her permission to take off her bra?

She saw his hand move in the darkness and her mind reverted back to conversations she had blocked out from embarrassment. Magnus, Luke, even her mother. All begging that, when the time came, they would be careful. They would use protection. And each one of them had very sternly told her to wait as long as possible.

"Are we rea-?" She didn't get the finish the sentence.

Something silver glimmered in the dark of her room. Something sliced against her arm. She pulled back, looking at her arm. There was a clean cut, an uneven slice, that went from elbow to wrist. It was beginning to bleed.

"What the hell?" She looked up at him.

In a swiftness only a small number of people could manage, Jace had moved from the bed to stand in the middle of her room. His face was a pale color, the face of someone who had seen a ghost. He was holding a thin silver knife in his left hand. The blade of it was tipped red with blood. Her blood.

He cut her. He had cut her.

"Why did-?"

The knife fell from his grasp, clattering to the wooden floor. Their eyes met. His knees buckled and he sank to the ground, burying his face in his hands.


	36. Chapter 36

Jace sat in her floor while she cleaned herself up. She had wiped the blood off her arm and drawn a quick _iratze,_ making him watch as it healed so that he would be assured there was no lasting damage. None physical anyway.

She changed, putting on a pair of pajama pants and an old shirt she had copped from him a while back. She had taken the knife from the floor, putting it on the bedside table. "Tell me what happens." She said. He looked up, eyes broken. "In your nightmare."

"I lose you." His voice was off, dejected and empty.

"I know that. Be specific." Once, Alec had told her that it helped to talk about the nightmares. He hadn't been wrong.

The look he gave her was awful. "It's the same every time. We're kissing. My bed, my room, always. Then…" his eyes moved away from her, fixating on the window, "don't make me say it."

She got up from the edge of the bed. She knelt in front of him and took his hands in hers. "Tell me."

He didn't move. "I hurt you." He strangled out. "I kill you. You die and it's my fault. I kill you and I have to watch you die."

She sucked in a breath, causing him to divert his attention back to her. She couldn't tell him that it was only a nightmare. He had actually hurt her, taken a knife and sliced open her arm. And lately, she was starting to think dreams weren't just dreams.

Jonathan came to her every night. He spoke softly and kindly, a feat he had not been capable of in life. They were meant to be together, he told her. In life and in death. Somewhere, she was beginning to believe him. Never before had she missed him. Never before had she longed for him to be alive, to be at her side, the way twins were supposed to be. Never apart. Not in life or death. And yet, death had separated them.

"I can't stand the thought of hurting you." He said. "Whatever is wrong with me, it's happening when I'm awake now. I don't want to lose you and I don't want to be the reason it happens." She said that what happened was an accident. He would never actually hurt her. "I never want to know what it would feel like if you died. I know how badly it would hurt. It would never go away."

She pushed his hair from his eyes. She knew what it felt like, to lose the person you loved most. He had died before her. She had watched the light leave his eyes. And she remembered feeling relief at the fact that she was going to die so she never had to live without him. "It's the worst pain imaginable." She told him. "When your eyes went cold, I spent every second after wishing for death."

"But you weren't the reason." He stated. "If I was the reason you died, if I killed you, I would kill myself." She startled back. He had never said something so macabre before. "It's true. I think…I think that my upbringing has turned me for worse. A childhood under Valentine is a lasting stain."

She couldn't believe what he was saying. And she couldn't believe he was saying it. Which, maybe he was right. Was she not also struggling? Plagued by nightmares and hellish behavior. Sure, she didn't cut her boyfriend, but her moments of uncontrollable behavior were no longer few and far between.

"I'm not one person anymore. I'm two. Jace Lightwood and Jace Morgenstern." He continued on. "Jace Lightwood deserves you. Jace Morgenstern doesn't. That's why I keep trying to ruin us. It's the only think that makes sense." He turned her hands over in his, holding them tightly. "You belong with Jace Lightwood. Not the person I'm becoming, not Jace Morgenstern."

Her head snapped up. _You belong with…Morgenstern_.

He frowned at her, asking what was wrong. "Jonathan." She murmured. "It's Jonathan." She scrambled to her feet, raking her hands through her hair.

"Jonathan is dead." He told her. "You know that."

She was slow looking back at him, not wanting to admit what she had been thinking for weeks. Saying it aloud was different than thinking it. "What if he's not?" She knew saying it meant she had to tell him everything.

His eyes darkened.

She sat back down in front of him. She brought her knees to her chest, knotting her arms around them and resting her chin between her knees. "I didn't want you to worry." She stated. "So, don't be upset with me for not telling you." He asked what he didn't know. "I told you that my nightmares were about Jonathan. But I didn't want you to know all of it. I wish I could forget it, but I always remember." She took a deep breath, the noise rattling in her throat.

He was looking at her with an uncomfortable amount of concern. She couldn't look at him and tell him. She couldn't watch his face change in horror when she unfolded the true story to him. She got up, moving over to the window. Pushing back the curtain, she saw the business of traffic on the street below.

"Every night. Without fail." She told him softly. "He's dead in them, at least he used to be. His skin is rotting off, he smells like death. His eyes are always the same. Black as night. We're in the cottage and he isn't the same. He seems…softer, somehow. He tells me that he's waiting for me and he's so glad I've come back. He says-," she broke off, hating the words she was about to speak, "he says we're the same. He sounds so sure that the blood, the darkness, it's going to turn me. Make me like him. And then he takes the Angel's Sword and he plunges it into my chest."

At first, she had thought she was projecting what had really happened. Her father and her brother looked quite similar. Jonathan had tried to kill her several times. Her father had been the one to do the deed. She was terrified that Jonathan wasn't really dead and she had been killed with the Angel's Sword. Simple enough.

Except the dream continued to come back, each and every night. It never changed. Until that day.

She glanced back at Jace. He was still staring at her, his eyes dark with thought, brow knitted together curiously. His mouth made a thinly firm line.

"Jonathan holds me when I die. His voice is kind and he pets my hair. I can feel myself dying and he's telling me that we're the same, we're one person in two bodies. Valentine pitted us against each other, but it was in vain. We were always meant to be together, that's what he says. In life and in death." She heard his breath stifle. "The last thing that happens…" their eyes met again, "he assures me that no one loves me more than he does. No one understands me better than him. He wants me back and he's going to make sure we're together again. And then he kisses my forehead. I die. I wake up."

He let out a breath, a strangled and uncomfortable noise. "Are you saying you think he was in love with you? Because, I know I thought you were my sister but you're actually his sister and that-." In as nice a way as possible, she told him to stop being dumb and shut up. "Okay, sorry. Is that all?" She could hear the prayer in his voice, _let that be all of it, we can't handle anymore crazy._

"No."

" _No?_ "

She shook her head. She really didn't want to tell him the next part. The only people who knew were Isabelle and Clary. And Declan. But Jace had to know. She couldn't keep it from him forever. She didn't want to keep anything from him.

"A couple nights ago, I blacked out." She admitted.

His eyebrows shot up. " _You_ got drunk? There's no way in hell."

Why was that everyone's first assumption? The only time she had ever consumed alcohol in front of Jace had been when she had first spun the lie that he was her brother. Granted, they were with her father and that whole ordeal was wild enough that she had needed the pick-me-up the wine had given.

"No, I blacked out. I don't remember anything. I was stressed out about the nightmares and we were fighting, and I just needed...I don't know, a release, I guess. I remember feeling so angry. So, I went to Pandemonium. There are always demons lurking around there and I just wanted to kill something. There was this group of Croucher demons-."

"How many? When you say a group, how many were there? Three? Five?"

"Twelve."

"Twelve?" He wore such a look of astonishment. She wondered if he had ever taken to heart all the times Hodge had said she was better than him. Or almost. She liked the think the former. "You killed twelve Croucher demons. By yourself." She said yes. "Jesus."

"He had nothing to do with it." She said wryly. "They weren't doing anything. They were just there, standing around. I couldn't stop myself. I just started killing them. And after, I thought…It was like I had imagined it and all I saw was a pile of mundane bodies. It kept happening. They would change from mundanes to Crouchers and then, I saw him."

"Jonathan?" He didn't believe her. Jonathan was dead.

Quietly, she said yes. "It could have been a trick of the light, or sleep deprivation getting to me. But that's what I saw, clear as day. As clear as I see you here now. He disappeared and I was left with this empty feeling, like part of me was missing. After that, I don't remember anything. I woke up in the infirmary the next morning. Isabelle said that Declan found me wandering around, muttering about something, Isabelle wouldn't say what, and he brought me here."

His face turned impassive at the mention of her Downworlder ex-boyfriend. She moved away from the window, letting the curtain fall. She quietly mentioned that there was one more thing. She explained that the dream had changed. She had gone somewhere else, what seemed like another world, home, her brother had called it. Jonathan had been there waiting for her. He hated Jace, hated him for killing him and taking her from him. But they were together again, the two of them and their mother. Jace asked if she meant Jocelyn and she said no. She explained that Jonathan had taken her to a summoning circle. The woman from the visions Ithuriel had given them. Snakes for eyes, demon mother. Jonathan called her mother and she called Eliza her daughter. That was where the dream had ended.

"Do you think-?" Jace stopped himself before he could even say the words. Neither of them wanted to think them, let alone say them. "Maybe Sebastian…"

Sebastian. No one could call him by his real name. Maybe they thought if they said it too many times or too fast, he'd be summoned.

Dead or alive, Jonathan was becoming a problem. He was plaguing her, day and night. And something was plaguing Jace in the same way. They couldn't go on. It was going to ruin the both of them. She had to figure out what the hell was going on.

 _That which you seek will be your desolation._

"We should go to the Silent City. Get the Brothers to poke around." She suggested, though it was not a suggestion at all. Jace said they were creepy. "Creepy and helpful." She added. She pulled him to his feet. "Let's go. Right now."

He made a face, looking her up and down. He then glanced back, checking himself out in the mirror. "We might want to change. I'm half naked and you look like you're about to ask me if I want some pills."

Her eyes narrowed. "Fine."

Despite the feeling of the world beginning to crash and burn around her, she felt somewhat elated. She and Jace were fine. Well, their relationship was fine. They may have been going crazy, but at least they were doing it together.

* * *

Jace had asked her to put the knife in his bag, he didn't want to see it. He had pushed it out of mind and now he wanted it out of sight.

She needed it to clear her mind. Seeing it, she didn't think of what he did. When it danced over her knuckles, twirled between the slides of her fingers, she didn't remember the fact that he had hurt her with it.

"Your hair is getting long." She said, the fingers of her free hand twisting the curled ends of his hair. "You should let me trim it."

His mouth twisted in distaste. "Declan's hair was long." He muttered. The corner of her mouth quirked up. "He really found you and brought you back to the Institute? Maybe he was the one who made you black out."

Vampires did have unusual powers. But Declan wouldn't have used it on her, they both were well-aware of that. He prided himself on being a gentleman. Even being dumped for a guy who had previously been known as his girlfriend's brother didn't deter his chivalry.

"What have you been doing?" She changed the subject as they got into a tax. She didn't want to remember the things she had forgotten or the undead ex-boyfriend. "I mean, what exactly does protecting Simon mean? He's protected by the Mark of Cain."

The Mark of the first murderer. Cain had been the first human born and Abel had been the first to die. Murdered by his own brother.

 _Not so unlike your own brother. Cain cast the stone down upon Abel and Jace thrust a sword through Jonathan. There is not much of a difference._ It was a creeping voice in the back of her mind. It was lulling, mind-numbingly soothing.

 _He deserved death,_ she told the voice. Jonathan had been sadistic, born of hate. So much it seemed possible he had absorbed most of it that had resided in her. Instead of taking her nutrients in the womb, he had taken the demonic nature, all he could before their time ran out.

 _Then you are she who killed him. Not with your hands, but your will for his demise. Your hatred for your own flesh and blood brought his death. Now, his blood calls to you from the ground, as Abel's did to Cain. You too bear a mark of murder. Not the sevenfold of vengeance, but a worse and more cruel fate. One fit for a monster of Hell._

In her dialogue with the voice, she had missed all of Jace's explanation. She was really going crazy. "Wait." She tried to gather anything she may have heard. Something about Camille and Magnus. "Magnus is back?"

Laughing, he said yes. "Camille would only talk to him so Maryse summoned them back from their trip. Alec wasn't happy about being back."

Her lip began to curl. Of course, Camille would demand to speak only to Magnus. It was just the sort of cruel thing she would do. Her bitch level rivaled that of the Seelie Queen. She knew that once upon a time, Magnus and Camille had dated. Or whatever dating was at that time. Camille hadn't been very kind to him and as a result, Magnus did not think or speak highly of her. Only Camille Belcourt would find a sadistic use for her entrapment by the Conclave.

Murdering Shadowhunters. One of the worst offenses a Downworlder could commit. If found guilty, and they usually were, they would immediately be put to death. For Camille, this would mean being put on a stake and set out to burn in the sunlight.

"And what exactly have you been up to?" Jace asked in return.

As she told him about her trip to the Silent City with Luke, Maryse, and Clary, she realized how truly out of touch they had been. Small fights before had never kept them unaware of the other's whereabouts. It was the unspoken rule: they always knew. For safety and because the constant worry of not knowing was too big a burden to bear. She relayed what Clary had told her about the demonic baby at the morgue of the hospital and how Clary had found the Church of Talto, leading to their untimely fight with the Hydra demon.

Jace didn't seem too concerned with the fact that a full-fledged Hydra demon had just appeared, or that there had been extra creepy figures watching from above. In velour tracksuits. "Sounds like a by-the-book demon-worshipping cult with really bad fashion sense who accidentally succeeded in a summoning." She asked if he thought that would be the end of it. Surprisingly, he said no.

"Me either." She said quietly. "I got this feeling while we were there. It was familial." He asked what she meant. "The first time I met my mother, I went to her apartment in Brooklyn. I had talked myself down the entire trip, I didn't want to get my hopes up. What were the odds she was actually my mother? That I had actually found her in the same city. But she opened that door and I _knew_. I knew it was her." She glanced down at the dagger in her hand. "I got that same feeling when we were in that church, looking at that altar. Maybe it was just those illustrations, who knows."

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. The pictures had been the worst thing to tell him about the Church of Talto. Because once, Jocelyn had looked at her like that. Though their relationship now was not perfect, Eliza struggled to believe that Jocelyn had been repulsed by her at one time. She treated her exactly as she treated Clary, though there was a clear difference between the two. Jocelyn didn't seem to notice most of the time, she acted as if she had raised the both of them, far away from Valentine and Jonathan.

"Meter's up." The driver said gruffly. "Ten bucks."

They were parked outside of the Marble Cemetery. Jace handed him a twenty-dollar bill and threw open the door. She dropped the dagger into the canvas bag he had slung over his shoulder and kicked the door shut. Walking into the cemetery, Jace grabbed onto her hand. Together, they entered the Bone City.

A group of Brothers were waiting for them upon their arrival, no doubt having sensed them coming. She immediately recognized Brother Zachariah among them.

 _Children never come to the Silent City alone._ The voice rang out in her head. She couldn't be sure which was speaking. Maybe all of them and they had just perfectly mastered the art of harmonizing.

 _What brings you to us again so soon, daughter of Valentine_? This was Brother Zachariah, that she knew for certain. _Have you found that which you sought?_

"No." She replied. It could have been the truth. It could have been a lie. She didn't know what he thought she was searching for. "I believe we require your aid, if you would be willing."

 _The Brotherhood is not at the mercy of Nephilim children._ Another spoke up. _Your trivial issues do not fall under our matters._

She dropped her hand from Jace's, stepping forward. They were really choosing the wrong person to mess with. And on the wrong day. "The problem we face, if I'm correct-" and she usually was, "does fall under your matters." They stared back, hollowed eyes and stitched mouths. Except for Brother Zachariah. He watched with what she could only call curiosity. "We're being…possessed, I suppose." That was the best word she could think of. "Someone is reaching into our dreams and manipulating our minds. Whoever it is, they're making Jace act outside of his own will and they're making me forget things I've done. We're getting nightmares. Every night. You call it hypnomancy."

She was met by a solid silence.

 _It is a magic held only by those of the greatest power._

She knew that. Anyone who could warp Jace or herself had to be pretty strong. Ithuriel had sent Clary visions.

 _Follow us to the Speaking Stars._ Brother Zachariah was the first to turn his back to them. The other Silent Brothers followed his suit. In sync, they began leaving the entrance to the Bone City. No one looked back to see if Jace and Eliza were following.

Eliza grabbed his hand, pulling him forward to follow the Silent Brothers.

"Hypnomancy?" He whispered. "You didn't say you knew what it was."

She shrugged. "Didn't think I needed to." Even after so long, he still seemed surprised at the amount of knowledge she had. In the beginning, he had assumed she was ignorant of all things related to the Shadow World. He had been right about the hunting thing. Though it had come naturally the first time, she had been scared to death to actually fight a demon.

Both Jocelyn and Valentine had been skilled warriors, so part of it must have been genetic. The whole blood-enhanced-by-demon-blood thing gave her an extra advantage over normal Shadowhunters.

The Speaking Stars pavilion looked as it should have the first time she had seen it. The Brothers had gathered behind their basalt table and Maellartach hung overhead on the wall behind them.

 _Son of the Institute, come forward._

He gripped her hand tightly. She pried loose and gave him a slight push forward. He had placed himself in the very center of the room, his eyes trained on the floor. The so-named Speaking Stars were bright bursts of metallic stars emblazoned on the tile. His head jerked up in response to something she couldn't hear.

"No, I thought they were just bad dreams." She heard him say.

Her heart twisted in pain.

"I don't think they're visions. Clary, Eliza's sister, was the one who had the visions." He told them. "But I did encounter the Angel."

It was a secret between three people: she, Jace, and Clary. They were the only people who knew that she and Jace had actually died at Lake Lyn. Everyone else thought they had merely been too close to death for anyone's comfort.

"I'm ready." He said.

The stars on the floor began to glow with light. The room filled with the hushed sounds of whispers she couldn't understand. His head fell back, his hands opening and closing every few seconds. He fell to his knees, his hands smacking against the floor. To keep herself from shouting at them to stop, she clamped down on her bottom lip. His face contorted with pain and his hands went to his abdomen. She could see it on his face, plain as day, but not once did his mouth open and release the sounds of torture.

It was when she saw his lips begin to part that she made her move to interrupt. No longer could she watch him writhe. "Quit. Enough." She said loudly. They did not cease. They were hurting him! Her eyes flashed. "Stop!" She shouted.

The room immediately went still. The whispers ceased. Jace looked up at her, his eyes flat, face blank. She moved, helping him to his feet. The palms of his hands were bloody where his nails had dug into them. She moved him to the side of the room where she had stood.

"Don't." He said quietly. "Don't do it."

"I have to." She made her way to the center of the pavilion. She made eye contact with Brother Zachariah. "Give it your best." Lifting her eyes, she trained them on Maellartach. The blade had been cleaned. Not one speck of blood could she see. No doubt, the entire sword had been meticulously cleaned after-.

Her thoughts were shredded, pierced through by a dozen arrows. Images flashed in her mind, she felt as if someone were raking through her head tediously. They did not want to miss a thing. Valentine, the father. A demon-metal tipped whip lashing at her. Placing the last piece of a Malachi Configuration. Berating her time and time again. Plunging the Sword of the Angel through her chest. A soft apology in the cool of the night for no one but her to hear.

Jocelyn, the mother. Soft hands raking through the fine hair of a child. A look of repulsion quickly replaced by an uneasy smile. A rattle waving in her face, " _Sweet Eliza Seraphine_." The urgent squeeze of a hand. Red curls over a hospital pillow. A modest apology, the ashes of her father blowing in the breeze.

Jonathan, the brother. A knife at her throat. Birds attacking a straw dummy, a cold laugh ringing out. A punch to the face, a kick to the gut. " _I'll kill you_." A knife in her stomach. Black eyes, ruthless and void of humanity. A whip around her throat. A knife in his back. A body floating down, down the river. Rotting corpse, undead. Arms around her, hand in her hair. " _My sister. My Eliza. One soul, two bodies. Together again, as we were meant to be._ " An apology made too late.

A woman, unknown. Mother, maybe. How? Taunting black snakes for eyes. Ash at her feet, ash in the sky. Ashes of the father, ashes of the world? " _Welcome home, my daughter._ "

A family, all hers. Four beautifully made children. Two good and loving parents. Support from everywhere. A dream that had once occurred. A lifetime unfulfilled.

Jace. Alec. Isabelle. Clary. Simon. Luke. Magnus. Two cats. Maia?

Jace. Jonathan. Jace. Jace. Jace.

Jonathan. A smile, hands outreached for her.

Death. Death. Death. Death. _Death._

She gasped, her throat raw. She clawed at it, trying to find some way to get air. Pain thrummed through her arm and only then did she realize she had fallen to the floor, landing awkwardly on her side. Jace was kneeling next to her, his eyes cut dangerously low.

She took several slow deep breaths. Even so, he was still staring as if he had seen a ghost.

The nightmare, she realized.

"I'm fine. I'm here." Her voice was raspy, and she did not think she was fine.

 _You have withheld the truth, daughter of Valentine. Secrets kept are tragedies in make._

"You'll have to be more specific, I'm afraid." She got to her feet. "I'm notorious for secrets and lying."

Unsurprisingly, they did not find it as funny as she had.

 _The two of you bear the mark of death._ She didn't know which had said it.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. _You too bear a mark of murder,_ the voice had said, _one fit for a monster of hell_.

Jace asked if that meant they were going to die. Which the answer had to be yes, because everyone died.

 _No, the mark of death is that you have already died. Each of your souls became untethered from your bodies and passed on into the realms of the shadows. And yet, here you stand._

No one was ever supposed to know. That had been the deal struck between the three of them. No one could ever know that Raziel had brought Jace back to life. No one could know that by some miracle, Eliza too, had been brought back.

 _Maybe,_ she thought wryly, _it had been the power of Jace's love. A love stronger than death, they had agreed._

Jace began to explain that Clary had asked Raziel to bring them back when the Brothers interrupted him. _Yes, we see the Mark of the Angel very clearly over you, Son of the Institute. Only one of God's own has the power to do what he did. That and the black sorcery of hell._ At this, each of the Brothers seemed to turn to look straight at her. Surely…

 _Which was it for you, daughter of Valentine? Heaven or Hell?_

This, she interpreted, meant that she was _not_ marked by the Angel Raziel. It made perfect sense, he had refused to bring her back. Her soul, he claimed, belonged to Edom.

"The Angel _chose_ to bring-."

She was interrupted. _He did not. We are well aware of many things in this world, the ritual of the Instruments is one._ Brother Zachariah told her. _He who possesses the Instruments may ask the Angel one favor. He could not have refused her if he wanted, for that is the rule of the ritual._

She grabbed onto Jace's arm tightly. "It sounds as if you mean to kill us. To restore the balance of life and death." She said thickly.

Surely the Brothers wouldn't kill them. Would they…?

Brother Zachariah broke away from the group. _The balance is a delicate one. It has been upset by your unnatural restorations of life._ He came towards them. Eliza had half a mind to prepare for a fight. She could take a Silent Brother. Hell, she could take all of them if she had to.

He rested his fingers under Jace's chin, lifting it up. _Had I been present the day you came from your mother, it would have only taken one gaze upon your face to know the truth of you._ He told him.

Was he hitting on her boyfriend?

 _The boy cannot be harmed by us. The ties that bind the Herondales and the Brotherhood are old and may not be disturbed. Help shall be given to him._ Eliza asked specifically what kind of help he meant to Jace. _The ritual of birth. He has died and been reborn. Without the protections, he has been left vulnerable to the influences of evil. An evil power takes counsel in your ear, Jonathan Herondale. You have been strong in your battle against it._

Herondale. He didn't go by the last name. He felt no familial tie to his biological family. That which he had never known. A father who had died before his birth and a mother who had killed herself, nearly taking him with her. The only fathers he had ever known were Valentine and Robert Lightwood.

And so, Jace went by Lightwood.

"You'll do it? Perform the ritual so he'll be safe." Eliza asked Brother Zachariah.

 _Yes. We must call for preparations. An Iron Sister needs to be summoned. An amulet needs crafting. And Jonathan will need to remain here until after the ritual. This will provide him the most protection._

Jace, remain in the Bone City? Now, the last time that had happened, they had been locked in a cell and attacked by a Greater Demon of fear. Not a fun time. She wasn't too keen on letting it happen again.

"How long?" She asked.

 _No more than two days. The ritual requires altering, as it is made for infants. Be glad he is still a child, for his soul is still capable of salvation._

Jace looked between Brother Zachariah and Eliza. "You're doing the ritual for her too, right? She died that night too. She needs the ritual. You heard her, you saw in her head."

 _No._

Before he could say anything, Eliza squeezed his arm. "They can't, Jace. Didn't you understand?" His eyes turned a hardened gold color as he said no. "Tell him," she said to Brother Zachariah, "tell him why he can be saved, and I can't. It seems to have slipped his mind."

Brother Zachariah clasped his hands together in front of him. _You, Jonathan Herondale, were brought back by the Angel Raziel. A light power, the power of good. Eliza Morgenstern was not. We cannot know what force brought her back, but it was not the Angel. Even you know this. The ritual is for those who can be protected against the influences of evil._

"Exactly." Jace said. "Which she needs. In case you weren't listening."

 _Eliza Morgenstern is in possession of a soul tainted by the grips of Hell. Her blood is corroded with that of demons. The ritual protects against the influence of evil. She has the brand of it in her blood. More so now than ever before. Whatever force tethered her soul to her body at Lake Lyn, it did so with a magic too dark to work against. To perform the ritual would be to kill her._

It was one thing knowing that she couldn't be helped. It was another to hear it. And it was entirely different to see the realization register on Jace's face. For a few moments, he said nothing. He only stared at Brother Zachariah with an abject anger she was glad was not directed at her.

"It's fine." She told Jace in quiet voice, pulling his attention away from Brother Zachariah. "I'll be okay. I promise. Let's just focus on you, okay?"

The last thing she wanted was to leave him alone in the Silent City. But she knew the Silent Brothers would not allow her to stay with him. She moved her hands up, cupping his face. "Tell Alec and Izzy I'm at Simon's." He told her. "Tell them that and I'll see them in a few days."

She glanced back at the Brothers, watching them with hollow stares. "Whatever you want." She looked back to him. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

He nodded furiously. "I told you I'd fix it, get better. And if this is what it takes for me to be able to see you and not worry if I'm going to kill you, I would spend my life down here."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Then you'd never see me." She pointed out.

He didn't laugh as she had hoped. He cracked a sad smile. "You'll talk to Magnus? See if he can help?" She said yes, even though she knew Magnus could do nothing for her. The demon's blood was taking its toll on her. She supposed she was a later bloomer.

"I'll come back tomorrow night to check on you. I promise." Sooner, no doubt. She knew she wouldn't sleep until she saw him again.

"Maybe by then I can leave with you."

She kissed him, a brief brush of her mouth against his. "Then I guess I should leave you to it." She let him go, instantly feeling a little emptier without him. She looked Brother Zachariah dead in the eye. "Take care of him. If anything happens to him…" her eyes seemed to flash, "well, you know what they say. Hell hath no fury like Eliza Morgenstern."

* * *

Magnus looked at her the way scientists looked at experiments, new discoveries, viruses under a microscope. His yellow cat eyes flickered as he inspected and observed. Head bobbing along as he made mental notes. His hand was firmly placed on the crown of her head, waves of warmth coming from his palm. She didn't know if he was just warm or using magic.

Given the circumstance, she hoped it was magic.

"How long?" He asked again. As she had said the previous two times, she said since they had come back from Idris. "Every single night?" She said yes. "How much time did you lose? When you blacked out." She didn't know, a few hours maybe. "Tell me exactly what Brother Zachariah said to you."

She felt her heart being pulled down to her gut. She didn't even want to think about the awful truth he had laid on her, a funeral shroud of words. "He said that whatever brought me back from the dead used dark magic. Trying to protect me from it would kill me. He said the brand of evil was in my blood and too strong to fight."

In asking Magnus for help, she had been forced to reveal the truth of Lake Lyn. She knew he would never tell, but had sworn him to secrecy nonetheless. Their circle of secrets was growing larger by the hour it seemed.

"I don't like that." He clicked his tongue.

"I should hope not." She muttered. "Is there anything you can do? For the nightmares and the blackouts."

He sat down on the couch, raking his hands through his dark hair. "Off the top of my head, no. With some research, maybe." He didn't sound too hopeful. "I don't want to give you false hope, little dove."

She sat down next to him and took his hands in hers. "Magnus." She said quietly. There was no one else to hear them, save for Chairman Meow. He could spill no secrets. "I'm scared."

He gave her a look she could only call pitying. With a sad smile, he ran his fingers down the crescent of her jaw. "I know, little dove. We'll figure this out. You're safe here." He pulled her in, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. "Did I tell you about how we got our opera tickets?" She said no. "Well, it was interesting to say the least."

He launched into the story. The longer he spoke, the more his voice faded out, replaced with another.

 _Eliza,_ it called, _don't worry. I'll save you soon enough. I will never leave you behind._

It was a soothing voice, words lullabying her into a fuzziness that soon overtook. Her eyes fluttered shut and she was pulled right into a dream.

 _The world was dark. Barren and cold. There was nothing. No horizon to distinguish where the sky ended, and the world began. There were no trees, no houses, no people. An empty world._

 _He appeared before her, looking as if he had been there the entire time and she had simply overlooked his presence. He seemed brighter, dark eyes glistening in the light of nothing, pale skim illuminated._

 _Maybe she had been wrong._

 _Maybe Jace had been the sun and Jonathan had been the moon. She had been the Earth, simply existing between the two of them. Or maybe she had been a star, dead before her light had ever touched them._

 _"Are you doing this to me?" She inquired. "Are you communicating from Hell?" There was no other place he could exist. Heaven, it so seemed, had a strict No-Monsters rule. If she wasn't allowed in, neither was he. "If so, I want you to stop. The dreams, the fugue states, all of it. Leave me alone."_

 _His face remained stoic. Beneath his thin white shirt, she could see the velvet black of his runes. The Angelic rune on his collarbone, Mnemosyne, countless others they had been forced to Mark one another with. There, on his chest, directly above his heart, was a stark red rune, the color of blood. It was one she had never seen before. It was made of oddly sharp angles and crossed-over corners._

 _"I can help you." He said. "I'm trying to help you."_

 _"You've never wanted to help me. Only hurt me." Their one-sided competition for their father's love had left them both losers. In the end, he had never cared for either of them. Even Jace, his prized stolen son, had been made a loser._

 _His hands jerked out, grabbing onto hers. "I'm trying_ now _!" He said urgently. "You have to listen to me. If you want it all to stop, you have to do as I say." His eyes scanned over her face. "You have to trust me."_

 _She had never trusted Jonathan. Not even as far as she could throw him. But he came every night. He spoke with soft words wrapped in a warm voice._

 _"What do I have to do?"_

 _She wanted to get better, to be better._

 _He let her go and produced his stele. "It will only hurt a little." He promised. He took her left hand and grazed a rune on the back of it, a backwards half-circle with jutted lines and two diagonal crescents. It burned, more than any rune had ever burned before. "Just one more." He whispered. "One more and it is all over. You will be saved."_

 _Saved?_

 _He pushed aside the opening of her shirt. "Jonathan." She tried to step back, but he held her in place. The tip of his stele burned her skin as he began. He worked painstakingly slow, his eyes trained, hand steady. The stele left a trail of fire over her heart._

 _"There." He murmured._

 _It was the Commitment rune. Just like the one on her hand, it blazed white._

 _"Jonathan…" She said, not knowing where the sentence had been going._

 _"You have to do me now." He pressed the stele in her hand. "It's the only way you can be saved, sister. Don't you want to be saved?"_

 _Her hand shook as she traced the same runes onto his skin. One on his hand and one next to the red one on his chest._

 _"I've saved you both." He told her, eyes burning into her. "What I've done, it was for you. Remember that."_

 _She looked at the runes she had just placed on him, realization dawning on her. She had done it once before, in another dream. A happier place where nothing was wrong, and everything was right. She had put them on the other boy. He had put them on her._

 _The other boy._

 _The sun._

 _Jace, that was his name. Thinking it made her stomach feel funny._

 _"Jace." She tested the word out, liking the way it felt and sounded when it came from her._

 _Jonathan, did not. His eyes flashed. "Why are you saying_ his _name?" He growled. "He took you away. He separated us!"_

 _"Jace." She said again. "Where is Jace?" She looked around, half-expecting him to pop up the way Jonathan had. If he did, she would be happy. The sun and the moon, both with her._

 _She could be the time of day they both existed in the sky._

When she woke, her hand burned. The place over her heart burned. Sure enough, she was Marked.


	37. Chapter 37

At the last minute, she'd had to buy a new dress. The previous one she had intended to wear to Luke and Jocelyn's wedding party was too low cut. It had been bought in the express interest that it would be ripped off later in the evening in what would be her first time with Jace.

But he was stuck in the Bone City having his mind curled through by the Silent Brothers. And she had a glowing white rune on her chest. Not just any rune, either.

The Commitment rune.

She could not show up to her mother's wedding party with that thing out in the open. She couldn't even explain how she had gotten it. Absolutely no one was going to believe that she had done it to herself in her sleep. Hell, she didn't even believe that. There was no way in hell she was letting Jocelyn see the Commitment rune on her. She would immediately think she and Jace had eloped.

So, her original, virginity losing dress had been shoved in the back of the closet. Instead, she had gone to that store Isabelle fawned over, Trash and Vaudeville. She hastily chose a floor length, flattering green dress that matched her eyes and the shoes she had gotten for the first dress. It had all worked out very well.

The Commitment rune was covered. And then there was the Wedded Union rune. Stark white on her hand, glowing just like the other one. She had covered that one up with a lot of bandage wrap.

She had truly done a number on herself.

Clary, of course, looked like a million dollars. Her gold dress fit her perfectly and elegantly. She could have been a model.

Eliza's hands rearranged a vase of ivory flowers for the tenth time. All she could think about was Jonathan. And Jace. Mostly, though, Jonathan.

Jace was safe in the Silent City.

Jonathan was still in her head, haunting her dreams. She didn't know how to get rid of him.

Her eyes flickered up from the flowers. Clary was arranging another table across the room, but someone had captured her attention. Light blonde hair tinted faintly with green and skin the color of milk. The fey girl wore a pretty blue dress.

Even feet away, Eliza's lip curled. She crossed the room quickly. "Kaelie." She greeted the girl. "What a…surprise."

Kaelie looked her over, a half-satisfied smile on her face. "Even better. I have two Morgenstern sisters to converse with on the behalf of my lady."

The Seelie Queen. Somehow, she always managed to be around. "Your lady can-."

Clary cut Eliza off. "What does she want? We aren't on good terms with her."

Kaelie's all blue eyes glimmered, saying she had noticed. "She wants to know why the boy wears the ring of Morgensterns. He is no Morgenstern, he is a Herondale."

The boy?

Jace, Eliza realized. She meant Jace. "Sentimental value. You fey don't have much experience with that, I believe."

She seemed amused by her response. "There is no room for sentiment when you live forever. As I said, the morning stars are not his to wear. He belongs to the herons. I myself believe that birds in flight are better fitted for him than the descent from Heaven into Hell. Boys like him don't go to Hell."

She was growing very annoyed very quickly with Kaelie. "Is that what the Seelie Queen wants? To discuss Jace's familial matters?" She asked sharply.

Kaelie extended her arm, opening her hand to Clary. "This is for you, Clarissa Morgenstern." The object was small, a tiny bell of silver that had a chain loop on it. "From my lady."

Clary shook her head. Accepting a gift from the fey was never a good idea. "Gifts from your lady are heavy with expectation. I refuse." Clary told her.

"Go away now." Eliza added. "You've overstayed the welcome you were not extended."

Kaelie seemed annoyed with them as well. "She does not bother to gift you. She is summoning you. Soon, my lady believes, you will require her assistance. Should you ask, she will provide. You need only ring the bell and one of the Court will take you to the Queen." She explained.

"No, thank you." Clary replied. "I would never ring it." Kaelie said there would be no issue in taking the bell then.

Before Eliza knew it, Clary was taking the bell.

"Girls!" Eliza heard their mother yell. She turned, seeing that Jocelyn was coming towards them. "There you two are." Jocelyn brought each of them in for a hug. "You both look radiant." She looked around. "Where's Simon, Clary?" Clary shrugged, saying he would show up eventually. Jocelyn looked at Eliza, her eyes shifting down to her hand. "Oh, my God. What happened? Are you okay?" She reached for her hand, but Eliza jerked it back, putting it behind her back.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She had to lie. She couldn't tell the truth. "I was helping Magnus with some stuff and I added a wrong ingredient in a mixture. I'm letting it heal naturally, learning my lesson of observance." She added a crooked smile for authenticity.

Jocelyn shook her head. "You need to be more careful. Who knows how badly those spells and potions can go wrong?" She pressed a hand against her cheek. "Is Jace coming?" She asked.

She wasn't sure if her mother actually cared whether or not Jace would come. Or even notice his absence when he never arrived.

"Maybe." Eliza answered. "He thinks you don't like him." She pointed out.

Jocelyn pulled a face. "I'm never going to like any boy my daughters are romantically involved with. When you're a mother, you'll understand." Eliza said it was different with him. It was Jace. "I know that. You love him. I loved your father the same way when I was your age." The admission was stunning, uncalled for. Jocelyn never spoke about Valentine. No one did. "I only want what's best for you, Eliza. I want you safe and happy. I know he makes you happy and I have never doubted for one second that Jace will keep you safe. I can see it when he looks at you, when he hears your name or your voice. That boy thinks you hung the sun, moon, and all the stars."

Before she could say anything, Jocelyn was walking off, disappearing into the crowd.

Clary looped her arm around Eliza's. "She's coming around." She said in a hopeful voice. "She might even let you sit with him at the reception."

They both smiled, laughing quietly as people began to surround them.

A waiter arrived, offering them a tray of full champagne glasses. Many, if not all of the waiters were members of Luke's pack. Clary declined, being only sixteen. At almost eighteen, an adult by Shadowhunter standards, Eliza accepted a glass. She murmured a thanks before he moved on.

The Ironworks building was already filling with people for the party. She spotted Maia, flanked by two other wolves. Maia spotted, waving half-heartedly, her orange dress rustling with the movement.

Both girls waved back. "Let's get to our seats." Clary suggested, pulling Eliza towards a different direction. By the time they got to their table, it only had two empty seats left. Alec and Magnus were sitting next to each other, dangerously silent. Simon, Isabelle, and Jordan were around the other part of the table, not speaking very much, or at all from what Eliza saw.

"We're at a party." Eliza told them, sitting down on Magnus' other side. "Everyone could at least pretend to look happy."

Magnus was fiddling with the ends of his white scarf, looking too bored for anyone's good. Alec's icy gaze was concentrated on something far away. "Where's Jace?" Alec asked without looking at her.

Eliza bristled. She hadn't really come up with a lie for him yet. She didn't want anyone but Magnus knowing where he was. "We're fighting." She said coolly. "I doubt he'll make an appearance."

Isabelle gave her a sad look. "You're _still_ fighting? Geez, this getting old."

"You have no idea." Eliza muttered. Isabelle asked what happened to her hand, gesturing to the bandages tightly wound around it. "Oh. I was helping Magnus with something and got burned."

Magnus looked at her peculiarly. "I don't-."

"It was yesterday." She said darkly, eyes glinting. "Remember?" _Please, for the love of all things, just go with it._ "We were working on that one thing and I messed up the mixture."

 _You owe me an explanation, little Shadowhunter._ "Yes. Not very good with your hands when it comes to magic." He rolled his eyes, annoyed with the mistake she had never made.

Hurriedly, Eliza finished her glass of champagne. As soon as another waiter passed, she traded it out for a full one.

"Jordan." Magnus broke the stifling silence that had encompassed their table. "I've been told you're a member of Praetor Lupus. What is the meaning of the medallion?" He pointed to the medallion around his neck. "It's curious."

The boy, whom Eliza had never met, but recognized as the singer from Simon's band, was not focused on their table. In fact, his eyes were trailing around the room. Following someone. She averted her eyes, trying to find who he was looking for. She saw Maia. She wasn't hard to find, her dress stood out. She was speaking to Jocelyn and Luke. She looked back at Jordan, his face slack with adoration.

 _Interesting,_ she told herself.

" _Beati bellicosi_." Jordan said absently. "It means, blessed are the warriors."

"If only." Eliza muttered, taking another drink.

Magnus looked at her from the side but said nothing to her. "I was good friends with your founder, Woolsey Scott." He said to Jordan. "He came from a well-respected werewolf family."

Alec made a noise in the back of his throat. "Were you just friends or did you sleep with him?" Alec asked darkly.

Eliza's mouth parted. Magnus' eyes widened. Everyone stared in shock. Alec was not the kind to speak so brazenly.

"What?" Alec questioned. "It was a legitimate question. I'm completely in the dark about your past."

Magnus' eyes darkened. "Do you plan to ask me if I've been romantically involved with everyone I mention from here on out?"

Eliza's eyes met Clary. They shared a nervous look. Eliza raised her glass, taking another drink. This was going downhill very fast.

"I knew Napoleon." Magnus continued. "He's one of the few people I've known that I haven't slept with."

Jordan looked up with interest. She wondered how much of the conversation he had actually heard while following Maia around the room with what she could only call puppy dog eyes. "So, it's actually true what they say about warlocks, then?"

Alec turned on Jordan, a rather rude look on his face. "And what would that be?" He sad through ground teeth.

Eliza finished her second glass of champagne.

"Alexander, you cannot be unpleasant to everyone who engages with me." Magnus' voice had that warning tone to it. He wasn't happy.

Alec asked if he happened to be putting a damper on Magnus' party plans. "Were you planning to flirt with wolf-boy here all night?" He snapped. "He's not bad looking, if you're into chiseled-model types."

She signaled a waiter, grabbing a third flute. Clary was looking at her, eyebrows downturned. Jordan seemed to understand Alec wasn't actually complimenting him but didn't appear to be offended.

"Or are you into girls tonight? Eliza looks great tonight." Alec was staring pointedly at her.

Magnus, who had buried his face in his hands, looked at Alec through his fingers. Eliza almost dropped her glass.

"Don't drag me into your domestic dispute. I have my own to be concerned with." Eliza said in a mild voice.

Magnus stared at Alec, eyes lit with displeasure. Maybe even anger. "I am _offended_ that you would suggest that I would stoop so low as to flirt with someone else while I am in a relationship. With you."

Without another word, Alec forced his chair back from the table. He stormed off into the crowd. Magnus groaned, ducking his head towards his lap.

Eliza went to finish the third flute of champagne, but Magnus plucked it from her hand and finished it himself. "You've had enough, I think." He told her.

She gave him an indignant look and stood up from the table. She stalked off to find another glass. She spied a waiter with a tray full of filled glasses. She made a beeline for him, saying she didn't mine to take one of the glasses of his hands. He gave her a weird look but didn't object. He let her take a glass and then walked away.

"Drinking to forget or to not remember?" A familiar voice asked from behind her just as she was about to take a drink.

She turned, her cheeks bright. "Look what the wolves dragged in. Declan Kensley."

Her ex-boyfriend, who was an entirely different kind of species. Yes, a vampire. Yes, a gentleman. Put the two together and you came up with Declan Kensley.

He looked refined in a fitted dark suit, his hair curling down under his ears. "Miss Morgenstern, stunning as always." He took her hand, kissing it lightly. His hands and his mouth were cold as death. "You've injured your hand." He noted, nodding towards her left hand. "I thought the Nephilim healed quickly."

She said they did. "I'm learning a lesson." She supplemented the lie. She slowly took her hand back. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course. What troubles you?"

She looked around, hoping no one was listening in. "The other night, when you found me…what was I talking about? Isabelle wouldn't say."

His eyes skirted over her, glancing around the room. "I'm afraid you were quite delirious by the time I ran into you, Eliza. I couldn't hardly make out what you were saying." Her heart deflated. "You asked me to help you. I thought you wanted me to take you to the Institute, which was where I began to escort you, but then you, forgive me, but you began speaking madly about your brother."

 _Jonathan_. She had figured as much.

"What was I saying?" She asked quietly.

He didn't look at her, which she found odd. Declan was the type of person who never broke eye contact while speaking to someone. "You told me to take you to him. You had to be with him, you said. At first, I thought you meant Jace, and I reminded you that I was taking you back to the Institute to him. You wore this unusual smile on your face and you said 'good, Jonathan and I can't be apart any longer'. And then you passed out."

She took a slow breath. She lifted her glass. The rim had barely touched her mouth when a movement at the doors to the terrace caught her eye. Golden curls that she would know anywhere. Her hand went slack, the glass shattering to the floor.

Several people turned to look at her.

"I have to go. I'm sorry." She told Declan quickly. "Thank you." She darted towards the doors.

Jace, where was Jace? Why was he there? He was supposed to be in the Silent City.

By the time she got to the doors, he was gone. Maybe she hadn't even seen him at all. Surely, they weren't done with the ritual already.

"Liz, what are you doing?" Alec's voice came over her. "Are you okay?"

She turned back, blinking at him. "Yeah." She replied quietly. "I'm fine. I thought I saw Jace is all." She regained herself, staring at him with a hard look. "Are _you_ okay is the question?"

His face faltered. For a second, she saw the hurt in his eyes. "Probably not."

She gave him a sympathetic look, holding his hand. "I'm only going to tell you this once, Alec, so you'd better listen to me. Magnus is crazy about you. Only you. He has a past. Everyone does. If Jace could get past mine, you can get past his. I promise."

Alec smiled softly. He nodded his head towards the doors. "Go see if it was him. You looked scared to death."

She dropped his hand. With another approving look from Alec, she pushed open the doors and went onto the terrace.

Out on the terrace, it was cold. She closed the doors behind her, wishing she had a shawl or something to cover her arms. The tiki torches that burned were not supplying any warmth to the air, clearly only existing for aesthetic purposes.

Save for herself and Jace, the terrace was empty. His back was to her. She could see he was wearing a dark suit, realizing that she had never seen him look so formal. There was a scar on the side of his throat where Simon had bitten him so long ago. She had a similar one on her wrist from him. And a worse one on her throat from Raphael.

"Hey, handsome."

His head turned, his eyes landing on her. He greeted her with one of those beautifully easy grins of his. He headed for her, circling his arms around her and pulling her in for an embrace. She could feel his nose against her hair, hands warm on her back.

"Is it done?" She asked, pulling away from him. "They said it would take longer."

He shook his head, curls falling over his forehead. "It was easy." He told her. "I told them to hurry, I had to see my girl in the dress she kept talking about." _His girl_ , her heart fluttered. "Is this it?" He held her at arms-length, looking her over. "You look gorgeous."

"Thank you, but no." She told him. "I didn't think you were coming, so I wore this instead of the other one." That was a special dress, reserved just for him.

His eyes sparkled. "Hold on. This isn't the dress?" She said no, unsure of what he was going on towards. "You in this dress…It's doing something to me. What the hell were you planning to do to me in the other dress? Give me a heart attack?"

She smiled up at him. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see." She shivered, pulling her arms over her chest. It was much warmer inside. "Let's go back inside. It's too cold out here." She took his hand, heading to pull him towards the door.

He remained still, halting her. "Let's just be alone for a minute. I want to talk to you."

She felt her smile dissolve into a frown. "Okay? Is something wrong?" _Please say no. Please just tell me that all you wanted to say was how much you love me. I can't handle any more bad news._

"I finished going through the box. Stephen Herondale's box." His father. The father he had never known. "I didn't feel anything. I don't think I can. He doesn't seem like a real person to me. Not like Valentine."

She looked at him. "Jace-."

He talked over her. "Do you remember what I said?" He asked. "About feeling like two different people?" She said yes quietly. "If I were Jace Morgenstern, would you still feel the same about me? Would you love me?"

"I don't know what you mean."

His eyes had darkened. "If Valentine had done to me what he did to you. To Sebastian. Would you still love me?"

She didn't know what to say. She didn't know where it was coming from. "Jace," she said slowly, "if he had done that to you, made you what I am, you wouldn't be _you_. And as long as you're _you_ , I'll love you. Hell and high water. It doesn't matter what your last name is. Lightwood, Herondale, Morgenstern." She paused, thinking the last one over. "Though, if you start going by Morgenstern, we might get some looks."

The corner of his mouth twitched, though not with amusement. He looked almost disappointed. "Do you know who I am?" He asked. "Because I don't. I look like Stephen Herondale, but I act the way Robert Lightwood taught me and I talk the way I learned from Valentine Morgenstern. So, I try to be who you think I am. I know you believe in that person, whoever that is and that's enough to make me believe I can be who you want." He spoke very precisely, as if the words had been turned over by his mouth time and time again. He had, she understood from this, thought long and hard about his identity and still came up with nothing.

Her tongue ran over her bottom lip. "Do you remember what I told you a long time ago?" He stared back unwaveringly, waiting for her to continue. "I told you that I've always known who you are. Even before we met, I had known you." Her hands moved up to cup his face. The ends of his hair tickled her fingers. "I've known you in my heart and soul, Jace. You may not know who you are, but I do. It doesn't matter what last name you choose to bear, that isn't going to change who you are." She needed him to understand that.

Even before she had lain eyes on him, she had known Jace. How his mind worked, his secrets, his life. She had known all of him before knowing the color of his eyes. And after meeting him, she had known more. What made him tick, the meticulous fashion his fingers played over the piano when he couldn't sleep, his favorite books. She had known all of him when he had known the fake version of her.

"I know a way to fix this." He told her. He stepped back and her hands fell to her sides. He took her left hand and stopped. "You're hurt?"

She shook her head. "No. Not anymore. What are you doing?"

He turned her arm over, revealing the paled skin of her wrist to the moonlight. She could see the blue-green veins woven under the skin, the faded silver remnants of past runes. "I'm binding us together." He said it so carelessly that she was sure she hadn't heard him at first.

"Wait, what?" He repeated his words, producing his stele. Her vision flashed and suddenly, Jonathan was standing in front of her, carving a rune onto the back of her hand. And then it was Jace, looking at her expectantly. "We're too young." She said. "And we are not getting married on the terrace while my mother's wedding party is happening inside."

His eyes lightening with a momentary amusement. "Not marriage runes, but it will be permanent. You said that we were meant to be together, Lizzie. Hell and high water."

She hesitated. There was no doubt in her mind that they were going to be together until the end. So why did this sound like such a bad idea?

"Lizzie."

"Okay."

He drew her closer, holding her arm in one hand and his stele in the other. She watched his face as the stele pressed into her skin. His eyes were dark with deliberation, mouth pressed with concentration.

Dizziness began to swirl in her head. "Jace," her voice sounded far off, "stop. I think I need to sit down."

"I'm almost done." He said sharply.

"Jace." She tried to focus, but even he was blurring in front of her. She looked down, her eyes narrowed as they tried to focus on the rune. Something about it didn't seem right. It wasn't the rune for love or commitment, not even the Wedded Union rune. She knew the last two all too well, they were carved into her. She didn't recognize this one.

She looked back up at him. He had pocketed his stele. "I didn't lie." He sounded like his was trying to assure himself of that. "I didn't lie to you, Lizzie, but I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" She could barely hear her own voice. What did he have to be sorry about?

The ground was rising up, a cloud of darkness closing in around her. Something caught her as she fell forward, the darkness taking over.

* * *

When she woke up, Jace was not Jace. In that, she meant that he had a void look on his face. His eyes were emotionless as they stared at each other.

"Get up."

She put herself in a sitting position. Rather unceremoniously, she had been put on the floor. "What did you do to me?" She inspected the rune he had Marked her with. Still, she did not know its unfamiliar lines and angles. A small movement of her eyes brought the horror that her bandage had been taken off. "Jace-."

"Get up." With his words, he produced a knife. It had a bone-made hilt. Usually she believed knives were pretty. This one was ugly as sin.

She stood up, her bare feet prickling against the cold tile floor. Where had he put her shoes? As soon as she was standing, he grabbed her by the elbow. Holding her close to his chest, he marched her from the empty room.

He took her to another mostly empty room. Except this one was occupied by two people. She immediately recognized one of them as Simon. The other, a woman with short dark hair and sunglasses, stood in the middle of a summoning circle. She had her hand placed on a clear glass coffin. From where she was standing, Eliza could see a body.

She felt nausea roll over her.

She could feel the tip of the blade against the side of her throat.

"Love is not a weakness." She heard Simon say. "It's a strength."

 _Wrong_ , she wanted to tell him. _You are so wrong right now. I loved, I loved too hard and this was where it got me. Kidnapped by my boyfriend, knife at my throat._

"It is." The woman looked right through Simon, her gaze landing where Eliza and Jace were standing.

She saw Simon turn and recognize them. Simon seemed just as confused as she was.

"I did just as you told me, Lady Lilith. I brought Eliza to you, just as you asked me." She heard Jace say.

 _Lady Lilith_?

With a cold feeling, she strained her eyes. There, in the coffin, floating, she saw him. _Jonathan._

"Oh, God." She muttered. "Oh, God. Oh, God."

"Thank you." The woman said. Her voice was familiar, a pin-prickle in Eliza's brain. "I seemed to have worried about your use for nothing."

Eliza tried to pull from Jace, but it was no use. He held too tightly, and each movement pressed the knife closer to her throat. "What did you do?" She shouted at the woman. "What the hell have you done?"

She didn't know who she was yelling for. Jace? Jonathan? Simon?

"Simon, explain to dear Eliza." The woman said placidly.

Simon shook his head, saying he had no idea what was going on.

It all clicked. The dreams, the voice. The demon influence.

"You." Was all Eliza could say at first. "You're the one who's been sending the nightmares. You've been making us think we're crazy. _You were in my head_."

Lilith smiled genially at her. "You have such an easy head to get into, my dear. It really was no trouble at all." Eliza asked why, what was the point of it all. "Can't you see it, dear? The glorious end to all this trouble is now coming to a close. I was in need of two boys, these two boys to be specific. And all I had to do was get you here. With you, I can make them do anything. Jace Herondale loves you fiercely and trusts no one else, although you have made quite the liar of yourself, haven't you?" How did she know that? "And of course, Simon. The Daylighter. He loves your sister so much, as much as you do. When it comes down to it, he will sacrifice his life for yours, or else your sister will hate him forever."

Eliza swallowed, feeling the knife's tip slink into her skin. "Simon." She said slowly. "Don't say anything." She warned him. "Jace won't hurt me." She wasn't so sure.

Lilith seemed amused at her trust in him. She instructed Jace to cut her, only to bring forth a small amount of blood. She said it was blood too precious to be spilled. Before she knew it, the knife was sliding down the edge of her throat. With its sting, she felt the warmth of blood on her neck.

Yesterday, Jace had talked of killing himself should he ever hurt her. And now, he had cut her because some demon bitch had demanded it.

"You were right, Eliza." Lilith told her. "His dreams came from me. I know him almost as you do. I Marked him as mine and now completely, he is mine. Mind, body, soul."

"Are you in love with him?" Eliza deadpanned. "Is that what this is about? You want me dead so you can have my boyfriend?"

Lilith laughed, shaking her head. "I will never want you dead, dear. You are far too important. I need you to allow Simon to give his blood. And I needed your boyfriend willingly to give himself over to me. Which he has done." She took her hand from the coffin. "You know the rules of magic, I know you do. There is a balance to be restored. One boy was brought back by the Light, another must be brought back by the Dark. Simon must die so that Jonathan can return to us."

Jonathan.

She looked again at the coffin. Her brother was in there. Dead. Did he look how she had first dreamt him? Rotted flesh and dead eyes. Or did he look as he had the last time? Alive and whole.

Lilith spoke of him fondly.

 _Return to us._

She now recalled where she had heard the voice before. In a dream. _Welcome home, my daughter._

How could she have been so stupid as to never realize? "Lilith." She turned the name over. "The Lady of Edom." The Greater Demon who had given her blood so that Valentine could create warriors for his cause. Warriors that came in the form of his two children. "Your blood runs through my veins. You let him make me into this."

Lilith looked at her the way Jocelyn sometimes did. It made her stomach roll. "Eliza," she said coolly, "that is no way to address your mother."

Eliza bristled. "I have a mother. And she isn't you."

"That woman? Please." Lilith scoffed. "She abandoned you. She never loved you. But me? Oh, my child, my love for you has never wavered. It has only grown stronger. After all, I was the one who gave you life. Both times."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Eliza asked sharply.

Lilith abandoned Jonathan's coffin, taking a step towards them. "Let her go, Jace." Immediately, Jace's arms fell from around her. "Come here." Lilith beckoned her into the summoning circle. Like a fool, she obliged. Lilith pulled her towards the coffin.

Jonathan's torso was naked, his skin a creamy white. His chest was still. He didn't look dead, he only looked like he was sleeping. On his chest, just where his heart was, were two Marks. One was a scarlet color, like she had seen in her dream. Next to it, was the same Mark she had on her chest. White, not black. It had an odd glow to it. There was another on his left hand.

Wedded Union and Commitment.

She wanted to throw up.

"Without my blood, you and Jonathan would not be here. God cursed me so that none of my children would be born to life. When your father summoned me and asked for my blood, how could I say no? I had birthed demons, but no true children. And so, I gave my blood and from it, you and your brother sprang forth." Lilith explained, placing a hand on her shoulder and another on Jonathan's coffin. Her hands were cold. "And when your father, the fool he was, murdered you, _I_ brought you back. When Jace murdered your brother, I used all in my power to preserve him for this moment. I am owed your brother's life, as I was owed yours."

She turned, looking at Lilith. This was the dark force, the evil, that had restored her to life. This was the demon whose blood tainted her own.

"How could you save me and not him? What made the difference?"

Lilith's eyes shifted, her gaze moving from Jace to Jonathan. "There are many mysteries in life and death, Eliza. The powers of Light and Dark do not function the same, not always. For you to live, I made a sacrifice. If you give a life to the Dark, the Dark will give one in return." Lilith had killed someone, sacrificed some poor soul to the power of the Dark, just to restore Eliza's own life. "Before I could do the same for Jonathan, Jace had been brought back by the Light. I saw an opportunity in his resurrection. You see, when the Light is given a life, then Death is owed a life. I am owed Jonathan's life by Jace's resurrection. _We_ are owed his life."

"I don't want his life!" Eliza pulled back from the coffin. "I don't care how many dreams you send me or what you Mark me with, I will _never_ want him to breathe again."

Lilith's hand jerked out, grabbing onto Eliza's wrist. Her fingernails dug into the skin. "Don't worry, you will." Her voice was cool and even. "Don't you see it, Eliza? From the ground, his blood calls to you. From death, he still comes to you. You were bound in life by the blood of me and the water of the womb. You were meant to be bound in death, in your father's own foolish way. I brought you back and now I must do the same for Jonathan."

 _You really don't have to_ , Eliza thought to herself, _the world would be much better off_.

"You are bound to each other now, in this state. Half alive and half dead. I saw to it myself. I helped you bind yourself to him. When Jonathan rises, he will be yours and you his."

To Eliza, this sounded completely crazy. It sounded like Lilith wanted them to be in love and to get married. Why else would she Mark them with the Wedded Union and Commitment runes?

"You're crazy." Eliza stated plainly. "If your big plan is to bring him back so we can get married, I'll stop you right now. I'll jump from that window before that happens."

Lilith shook her head, saying she never intended for that to happen. "I, as everyone else, am aware of your fondness for Jace Herondale. But I am more than aware that you and Jonathan belong at the sides of one another, through every stage of life. What you Marked yourself, and Jonathan with, are the demonic equivalents of your marriage runes. They mean not the same when infused with demonic power. Worry not, dear one, you are free to marry whom you choose."

"Oh, good. I'm glad that option is open still." Eliza replied dryly.

"You aren't their mother." She heard Simon pipe up. "You're delusional. They already have a mother. Her name is Jocelyn. She loves Eliza the same way she loves Clary."

Eliza whipped around, shooting him a deadly glare. "I said to stay quiet." She hissed.

Lilith, though, didn't seem to mind. "A mere surrogate who left them behind once they became too difficult. But I watched them grow up. I saw the contempt that woman held for them. They are more of me than they could ever be of her. My blood grew strong in them and made them stronger than any Nephilim could ever hope to be."

The same blood that made it possible for her to jump to and from impossible heights without injury. To move at a speed other deemed inhuman. It enhanced her senses and reflexes and made her one of the best Shadowhunters that had ever lived.

And yet, it had its fall backs. It made her rash, quick to anger. It boiled inside of her and created a need to kill she couldn't satisfy. It made the slick motion of stabbing something feel like opening a present on Christmas morning.

"Jace. Step into the circle." Lilith called him. Like an obedient servant, Jace came. As soon as he was over the line of the circle, the border lit up red. A spot of red glowed through Jace's thin white shirt and for a moment, she thought he had been stabbed. Or shot. But she could see the outline of the rune through the material, seeing that it was the same as the one on Jonathan's chest.

Lilith had bound Jonathan to both of them. To Eliza, only because they were made the same. And to Jace, simply because he had been fortunate enough to be brought back to life.

"Daylighter, you must give your blood. Give your blood or I will kill Clarissa Morgenstern."

Eliza's head jerked. She made a noise in her throat.

"He can't swallow my blood. He's dead." Simon told Lilith.

Her heart was racing. Simon had to give his life to bring Jonathan back. If she let him, Clary would never forgive her for letting Simon die. But if he didn't, Lilith would kill Clary. And Eliza would never forgive herself.

"She's my sister. You can't kill her." Eliza said to Lilith. "I'll hate you, more than I already do."

Lilith made a clicking sound with her tongue. She seemed bored by the whole affair. "I don't care whether you hate me or not. All I care about is bringing Jonathan back and I will do whatever it takes." She turned her attention back to Simon. "You must bite him. The fluid in your fangs will bring him back to the point where he can drink your blood. You will give my son back to me."

"I still don't understand!" Simon said. "You can't bring the dead back to life!"

"You can and you will. I have done it once and I will do it again." Lilith sighed. "We have said this in front of you, how can you not understand?"

Simon, poor Simon. He had not been allowed into their circle of secrets. He didn't know. "Simon, we didn't tell anyone." Eliza walked to him. She wrung her hands in front of her. "It was only the three of us: me, Jace, and Clary. At Lake Lyn, when my father used the Angel's Sword against Jace and I, we died." Simon's eyes widened, repeating what she had said. She nodded. "Right through the heart." She told him. "But when you summon the Angel, you are allowed to ask him for one favor. Clary asked him to bring us back. He brought Jace back. And-."

"And I brought Eliza back. And now, I am owed a life. Since Jace lives, so shall Jonathan." Lilith finished. "Now, we may finish this. Jace, the one who was first returned, is in the circle. Eliza, the one bound in life and death, is in the circle. And the Daylighter, who will restore life, is in the circle." Her voice had lowered to an almost chant-like tone.

Simon mentioned that Clary wasn't even there. Lilith couldn't hurt her if she wasn't there.

That was when she saw her. In the dark corner, alone. Standing straight as a rod, her mouth closed in a firm line. She was still wearing the gold dress from the wedding party. Her hair had fallen down. Blood was matted on her temple.

" _Clary._ " Eliza whispered. She clenched her hands into fists, looking to Lilith. "How did you get her here? What did you do to her?"

Lilith shushed her. "She is unharmed, for the most part. Held only by a simple body-binding spell and a quietening spell. Your father used something of similar means on her once before. I had Jace bring her here while you were unconscious. He is such a loyal young man."

Jace nodded in agreement, his eyes blank. "You were in trouble." He told Eliza. "That's how I lured her from the party. You were in trouble and needed her help." Her heart pulled. Even his voice was void of emotion.

"Your sister loves you so much." Lilith added. "It would be a shame for her to die here tonight."

Eliza closed her eyes.

Clary, her quick wit. The same eyes and red hair as their mother. They shared eyes, the three of them. How, only on seeing a picture of Clary, Eliza had felt the burning need to protect her little sister. Her sister, who had killed a Ravener with just her hands and a Sensor. Who had always defied Valentine. She had run into a hotel of vampires to save Simon's life. She had blown up a ship. She could create runes from nothing but her mind and bind Shadowhunters to Downworlders in alliance. Clary was special and not just because she had the blood of Ithuriel in her veins.

She had to protect Clary, as she had always done, as she would always do. Jocelyn would never forgive her. Luke would never forgive her. She would never forgive herself.

Even if Clary never forgave her for letting Simon die, at least Clary would be alive.

When she opened her eyes, Simon was looking at her. Clary was looking at her. So were Lilith and Jace.

"I'm sorry." She barely whispered it, but knew he heard it.

He nodded and she knew he agreed with her. They had always been in understanding over one thing: Clary.

He stepped into the circle. "I'll do it."

Lilith waved her hand over the coffin and the lid disappeared. Eliza could see her brother floating inside. His hair moved with the liquid. He was missing a hand. Lilith had bandaged the stump.

"Come and bring life to my son." Lilith beckoned him towards the coffin.

As Simon passed her by, Eliza reached and slid her hand across his. A simple gesture between two people who had never been close. Simon leaned over and she saw his teeth sink into Jonathan's throat.

She winced, turning away. Her eyes found Clary's. Betrayal was written all over her sister's face. But Eliza didn't feel sorry at all.


	38. Chapter 38

It was one thing knowing that Simon was going to drink Jonathan's blood and raise him from the dead. It was another to watch it. She couldn't call it disgust and she couldn't call it fear. She didn't have a name for what she felt, but she knew she didn't like it.

She turned to the only person she could: Jace.

He stood like a good little soldier. Back straight, shoulders square, eyes faced at whatever lay ahead. He looked so familiar, so like himself, even though she knew he wasn't there anymore. She felt more like she was looking at a portrait of him.

"You never stood a chance." She breathed. "Between Valentine and me, you never had a chance." It had been as easy as snapping the neck of a baby bird. The ruin of Jace Wayland had not taken much on her part. Just two lies and a couple of smiles. A kiss here or there. "Maybe if I had left you alone…" She murmured. "Maybe without my poison, you would have been okay."

When he looked back at her, she thought she could see the person he had been. Who he was before Lilith had ripped him away. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." Even his voice was distant.

Maybe…maybe she could snap him out of it.

She took a step towards him. He stiffened. She glanced behind her. Lilith was preoccupied watching Simon. "Oh, baby." She took another slow step. He watched her walk towards him, never moving, his eyes fixated on her. When she finally reached him, she placed her hands on his jaw line. "Jace, I was the worst thing that could have happened to you." She told him. "If it weren't for me, you never would have been at Lake Lyn. You wouldn't have died, and we wouldn't be here right now, you wouldn't be like _this_. If only I hadn't made you love me…"

He put his hand on top of hers. His skin was cold. "Falling in love with you was the easiest thing I've ever done." He said blankly. "I'm protecting you. That's what she said. This is to protect you."

"She _lied_ , Jace. This isn't going to keep me safe." She held his face firmly. Maybe if she held him hard enough, her reasoning would flow through him. "Bringing Jonathan back won't protect me. He's going to hurt me, like he always has. Don't you remember?" Her eyes searched his, trying, hoping to find some piece of him. "He tried to kill me, Jace. He tried to kill _us_. What makes you think he won't do the same once he's back?"

He shook his head, saying no softly. "He loves you, she told me that. She bound you to him, just like I am bound to him. Bound to you. We're all tethered, a family."

What a sick version of a family. She guessed demons weren't really up to par with what constituted a family. For Lilith, it was apparently herself, a psycho demon Shadowhunter, his lying demon Shadowhunter twin sister, and a brainwashed Shadowhunter with angel's blood.

From beneath his shirt, she saw the Mark. Blood red, glowering at her. Taunting her. That rune, whatever it was, it tethered him to Jonathan. If she got rid of it, maybe he couldn't come back. Maybe Simon wouldn't have to die.

"Jace?" He blinked, humming in response. "You love me, don't you?" She loosened her hold on his face.

"More than anything."

She smiled, tears burning her eyes. "Do you remember when we said that our love was stronger than death? Hell or high water, we agreed." He nodded sluggishly. "If it's stronger than death, it's stronger than anything. Even Lilith." She spoke this quietly. He blinked again. No response. "You want to protect me, don't you? That's why we're here?"

"I have to keep you safe. No matter what."

She nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I know. I have to keep you safe too." He seemed to register these words, but he said nothing. "Do you trust me?" She whispered, leaning forward.

She could feel the erratic movement of his heart against her chest.

"With my life."

She could feel the sting of several hot tears falling. "Good." She pulled him closer, the ends of his hair tickling her face. Instinctively, his head ducked down and his lips brushed over hers. She felt him react the way he always did when they kissed. He tried to get as close as possible, there was always too much space between them. His hands found places to sit on her waist.

She let him deepen the kiss, her only thought on that Mark on his chest. It was easy this time to not get lost in him. It wasn't Jace. Not anymore. Not yet. Her hand trailed down from his jaw to his neck. His shoulder and bicep. She made sure to squeeze lightly with feigned interest. His eyes were closed but hers were wide open.

She slipped her hand into the pocket of his jacket, so light he didn't notice. Her hand closed around the hilt of the dagger, slowly drawing it out. She pulled away from him and he made a small noise in protest. Just as his eyes opened, she drew the dagger up. He didn't even have time to register it before she brought it down.

The blade sliced over his chest, cutting right through the dark red rune. He made a pained noise as blood spurted outward. He stumbled back, grabbing onto his chest. Blood flowed over his hand. He stared back at her in horror.

She heard Lilith scream. She gripped the knife tight, staring back at the Greater Demon. Simon had stood up, staring her down. She could see a thin trail of dark blood going down his chin.

"Grab her!" Lilith shouted. "Grab her now, Jace!"

He stood still, staring between the two of them. Simon made a choking noise and doubled over. His knees hit the floor. Lilith ran to him. "He needs your blood!" She told Simon. "You have his and now he needs yours!"

Simon threw up on the floor, thick black blood spewing from his mouth. _Poison_ , she thought, _our blood is poison to him._

Lilith made a move to kick him, but something shoved her back. She shrieked out. When she regained her balance, her eyes landed on Eliza. "You impudent girl." She snarled. "I gave you life and then gave it again and this is how you repay me? Maybe your father was right to dispose of you."

The words should have hurt her, but she had become immune to things like that a long time ago.

She scoffed. "Maybe he was. And you're right, he was a fool. But you were the fool who brought me back."

Lilith's eyebrows shot up. "Jace, I am ordering you to seize Eliza's weapon." Jace stared back at her. "You cannot disobey me, Jace Herondale."

She wouldn't fight Jace. She couldn't fight Jace. She could hurt him, more than she already had. She knew that she would, and she could not do it.

Eliza looked at Jonathan's coffin. At Simon. At Clary. At Lilith. If Lilith succeeded, Jonathan would come back. She refused to be a part of that, a part of that world. And she knew, if he came back, she would be bound to him, as Lilith had intended.

She knew that the only thing stronger than Lilith's hold over Jace was his love for her. Lilith had driven him to the brink with nightmares of him hurting her. She had promised that she would help him protect her.

She tossed the knife to his feet. At its clamor, he met her gaze. "Kill me. Or kill Lilith." She instructed him. "You don't have a choice, though, do you?" _You never did._

He kept her gaze as he bent over and retrieved the knife, turning it over between his fingers. "No." He replied. "I don't."

She braced herself. Lilith's hold was so strong on him, her claws dug in so deep. She had left him no other choice. Hopefully, hurting her would bring him around and he'd ensure Jonathan never came back.

"Jace, I am ordering you to-." Lilith's words were cut short.

Jace had thrown the dagger. Eliza felt it sear past her face and heard it sink into something. Lilith's chest.

The Greater Demon stumbled backwards, gathered herself, and flung the knife to the ground. It was melting away, burned by the ichor.

" _What have you done?_ " Lilith screamed at Eliza. Her eyes shifted, long black forms coming from them. Snakes, Eliza realized. Snake eyes. She took several steps forward, her eyes growing longer.

Jace was in front of Eliza, his arm extended to hold her behind him. He drew a seraph blade from his belt, the light of it illuminated his face and the blood on his chest. He hissed out a name, " _Michael,_ " and the seraph blade seemed to burn brighter than ten thousand suns.

Lilith laughed, a high-pitched and cold sound that echoed through the room. "I knew him. The cavalry's captain." She took another step towards them. "He slew Sammael, my lover." Eliza grimaced. "Your angels, your saviors, are never slow to slay those who disobey."

"Who knew you were the poster child for free will?" Jace's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Let us go. The four of us: Eliza, me, Simon, and Clary. You can't control me and this little family reunion you've staged isn't going to happen."

Her face lit with anger. She ringed her mouth, a black liquid coming from it. It landed on the floor, stretching into a snake. Jace brought his boot down on it as it came closer. He pushed Eliza to the side and lunged at Lilith. She vanished, his seraph blade slicing through air. She reformed behind him and when he turned toward her, she shoved him back with her hand.

He flew back, his body slamming into the wall across the room. Michael had flown from his grasp. There were cracks in the wall where he had landed so forcefully against it. Lilith marched over to him and picked him up by the front of his shirt, putting him on his feet.

"You're going to watch me when I kill you. You'll see my face as I take your life, what you robbed my son of when you shoved a knife in his back."

"You can try to kill me." Jace wiped the sleeve of his shirt against his face, smearing it with blood.

Lilith grinned at him, her black teeth glittering. Too preoccupied to notice Eliza inching towards the discarded seraph blade. Too encapsulated in her anger with Jace to see Eliza pick it up.

"I am a Greater Demon. You may be the best Shadowhunter of this time, but you cannot defeat me." She snarled.

Eliza was holding the seraph blade so hard her knuckles were going white. Jace grinned. "I'm not the best Shadowhunter. She is." He lifted a hand, pointing behind Lilith.

The demon turned to see Eliza holding the seraph blade. "Get your disgusting hands off my boyfriend, bitch." She swung the blade, feeling it hit against Lilith's shoulder. She let go of Jace and he stumbled backwards.

She stepped back as Lilith lunged at her. The demon righted herself and extended her hands. Black smoke emitted from them. The smoke solidified, forming two thick shadowlike forms with glowering red eyes. The smoke had taken the form of two large dogs, growling and snuffing against the floor.

"Shit." Eliza muttered.

Her eyes met Jace's. "Hellhounds." He said, just as one of them leapt for him.

She didn't have time to react before the other was pouncing on her. She felt the floor meet her back, Michael flying from her hand, and pain shot up in her. One of the paws was on her chest, the other on the ground next to her head. "Hold her!" Lilith shouted.

Eliza turned her head, seeing Jace wrangled with the other hellhound.

She struggled under the weight of the dog. It was applying too much pressure to her chest. Her hand found her thigh and she felt it there- a small Marked dagger strapped under her dress. _Thank God for paranoia,_ she told herself. She turned it under the fabric of her dress and jerked her hand, ripping the fabric. She fumbled, getting the dagger out.

"Go to Hell." She hissed, forcing the dagger up. It stuck in the hound's chest and it reared back. She scrambled out from under it, yanking out the dagger. It looked up, snarling at her. It lunged for her and she stood still. Just as it came over her, she bent back, knife up. She felt the knife slice through the belly of the dog.

The hound vanished in the air, leaving only the putrid scent of demon behind. She turned the dagger in her hand, looking back. Jace was staring at her, a seraph blade in his grip.

Without thinking, she ran to him. He hung the blade on his belt and his hands were on her neck. "You have to go." They both said.

"Lizzie, please." He begged quietly. "Get out of here."

She shook her head. "She's my demon blood donor. You have to go." He said he wouldn't leave her. "And what makes you think I'd leave you?" She asked softly.

He closed his eyes, resigning over to her. When he opened them, she could see that it was still him. He was still Jace. "Hell and high water?"

She nodded. "I think this is the Hell part. We've done the high water thing too. On Valentine's ship." She added with a wry smile.

His hands fell and he took out his seraph blade. He took her hand with his other, lacing their fingers together.

Lilith was standing over the glass coffin, Simon in her clutches. Jonathan still floated inside, the water tinged a dark color.

"Hey! Demon bitch, I have a serious bone to pick with you." Eliza shouted. Lilith whipped around, releasing Simon. "You brainwashed my boyfriend, tried to kill him, kidnapped my friend and my sister. And now you're trying to raise my bastard brother from the dead."

Lilith no longer seemed amused by the taunting.

"You said I couldn't take you," Jace told her, "but the two of us…I think we have a hell of a shot."

Lilith went. She came for them, her hands reaching out for both of them. They moved in harmony, each jutting to the side. Jace slashed with his seraph blade and Eliza with her knife. Jace's hit landed on her shoulder, Eliza's on the side. Lilith screeched in pain. By the time she refocused, they each had moved back several feet. She chose Jace, whirling after him like smoke. He nodded to Eliza.

She ran to Simon, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Hey, look at me." She whispered. His eyes were unfocused, his face a sick white color. Too much of Jonathan's demon blood had sickened him. "You're going to be okay. I promise. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Simon."

She heard something break and looked back behind Simon. Lilith and Jace were standing apart. Several small black snakes were on the ground. Lilith held two pieces of metal in her hands. "Michael never was very strong." She clicked her tongue.

One half of the seraph blade turned dust in her hands. The other, the longer piece that contained the hilt and a piece of blade, went dim.

Jace looked worn. His shirt hung on him with sweat and blood. His shoulders were too tense, his hands curled into fists. "What's next?" Jace asked her. "You shacked up with Sammael. Michael killed him. Are you going to tell me that Gabriel is your hair stylist?"

Eliza tightened her grip on Simon's shoulders. Her mouth was clamped shut, her lips a dark line. Jace's snark reached unfathomable limits when he was faced with certain death. He hid his fear behind biting words and cool posture.

"You could never have children of your own. You were cursed to bear a thousand infants, none living. Or was it two thousand?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. "I never was good with the numbers."

"Tread carefully, Shadowhunter." Lilith's voice was abysmally dark.

Jace raised an eyebrow. "What are you gonna do? Kill me?"

Eliza released Simon. She let him fall against the coffin. _No_ , she thought, _you can't. You can't die. I won't let you. I'd kill a thousand men just to bring you back. Don't make me do that._

"But you can't. We both know that." Jace went on. "If I die, you can't bring Jonathan back. Can you?" He pointed to the coffin. "I'm his tether. Without me, he's lost." He looked past her, his eyes landing on Eliza. "You won't kill me, but Eliza will."

Her hand twitched. She shook her head.

Lilith turned, looking between them. "She will not." She decided. "She loves you too much to destroy you."

 _I already have destroyed him. I did that a long time ago,_ she thought.

Jace said she was wrong. "She loves me, but she hates Jonathan more. She'll do whatever it takes to keep him from coming back."

It was too much to ask. She wouldn't do it. She couldn't.

She took the dagger from the strap on her thigh, turning it over in her hands. "It's okay, Lizzie." His voice was soft. It was assuring in the way she didn't need it to be. "It's for the best."

She looked at him. Beautiful Jace Herondale. An angel among men. There were so many strings tied to him. He was so privy to the affairs and desires of others. He had never stood a chance.

"She won't do it." Lilith repeated. "I saw what happened that night at Lake Lyn. I saw Valentine turn his sword against the both of you. I heard her scream and cry over your body. I saw in her head before I gave her another chance of life. The future she desired for the two of you." Lilith smiled cruelly. "It is a love stronger than the binds of life, anyone can see it. She won't kill you."

Jace looked at her, the knife in her hand.

"Lizzie."

"I can't." She said quietly. "I'm sorry." Her eyes cut and she launched the knife. It stuck itself into Lilith's shoulder. "Run!" She screamed at Jace. "GO!"

Something lashed out at her, burning into her skin. It felt like wire sinking into her skin. Shocked and in pain, she screamed out, grabbing onto her wrist. Lilith had a silver whip-like wire extended from her hand.

"You ungrateful little bitch." Lilith growled. The whip lashed again, hitting Eliza on the neck. "I have done everything for you! Given you life, twice. I put a love for your brother in you. I am trying to bring him back for you and this is the thanks I get?"

Eliza steeled herself. Valentine had whipped her over and over again. That whip had been infernal, tipped with demon blades at the end. "You can't do anything my father hasn't already done." Eliza said through gritted teeth. "You can't kill me. You won't."

Lilith grinned. "Don't be so sure. You've proven to be useless. Getting rid of you now will be for the best." The whip curled around her throat. Her hands clawed at it and she remembered a time not so long ago when it had been Jonathan choking her like this. Maybe Lilith had given him more than blood. "Yes, I think I will take care of the problem you have become."

Her gaze met Jace's. His mouth was open, hair matted to his face in sweat. _I'm sorry_ , she mouthed, _I love you._

She sank down to her knees, too tired to fight anymore. The whip snatched back, and she took what would be her last breath. She closed her eyes.

She heard the whistle of the whip in the air, but it never burnt against her skin. She opened her eyes. Simon was standing in front of her. Lilith was staring back at them, her eyes wide. Eliza did not see the whip.

"Sevenfold." Simon stated clearly.

Lilith burst into light. Eliza could only see a bright column of white fire where Lilith had once stood. Then, grains of salt rained from the ceiling, hitting the floor lightly.

Lilith was gone.

* * *

Someone's hands were around her throat. She stiffened, waiting to realize that the fingers were soft and meant no harm.

"Liz, wake up."

The fingers danced, inching along a sorely sensitive area. Pain flared if they pressed down too hard.

"Lizzie. Can you open your eyes?"

She did. She saw three people staring over her. Clary was huddled to Simon's side, Jace across from them. None of them looked very well. Jace looked the worst. His face was beaten, bruised, and bloody. His bottom lip was swollen, a long cut ran down his cheek. His white shirt had been soaked in blood from where she had cut him.

"What happened?" Her voice was hoarse. It hurt too much to talk.

"You passed out. Probably from the pain." Jace told her. His eyes darkened. "Do you know how stupid you are? Just giving your life up like that. She would have killed you if Simon didn't step in."

She pushed herself up into sitting position. "Do not start with me on that, Mr. Here-Liz-Stab-Me." She cautiously felt around her neck. There was a thin and scraggly cut from where Jace had slid his knife against her throat. Cutting through it was a welted line warm with dotted blood from Lilith's wired whip. "Someone give me a stele." She held her hand out.

She looked between Jace and Clary. Clary turned to Jace, who in turn looked away. Eliza cut her eyes, asking what was going on. Jace sighed, looking back at her. "Lilith made me toss yours and Clary's steles. So, you wouldn't be able to use them against her. Against me."

Eliza took a deep breath. "Okay then." She got herself to her feet. "It's time to get out of this hellhole."

She didn't wait to see if they followed her. She grabbed her dagger where it had been discarded on the floor. The blade was black with blood. She crossed the room to the elevator, slamming her hand against the button. The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

Two people exploded from the elevator and Eliza raised the dagger.

"Hey! Watch that thing!" Isabelle shouted, her hands up.

Eliza staggered back, blinking several times. Alec and Isabelle were standing in front of them. Isabelle's party dress was torn and spotted with blood. Alec didn't look much better. "What the hell are you guys doing here?" Alec asked them.

"We could probably ask you the same question." Jace replied coolly.

Isabelle's stance shifted. A piece of her hair fell from its already failed updo. "We came to look for Simon." She said in a small voice. "We didn't know you were here."

"Really?" Simon asked.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Jace, what the hell happened?" He had his adult voice in gear. He was the oldest of them all, being the only technical adult of the group.

Jace looked back at him, his eyes unnervingly solid. "You have your stele, don't you?" He answered with a question.

"Yeah." Alec nodded. He got it out. "Oh, right. You do look bad. Here." He leaned forward to try and start on several healing runes but Jace stepped back.

"Not me. I need you to heal Eliza." His voice cracked on her name. They stared back at each other. Friends, brothers, _parabatai_. "Alec, please, for me." On that, he turned away from them and walked over to the glass doors leading to the terrace.

Alec took her carefully by the arm and led her to a quieter part of the room, leaving Isabelle, Simon, and Clary alone. "Is he okay?" He asked quietly, starting to draw over a past healing rune.

"I don't think so." She murmured, glancing back at him. He was staring at his reflection in the doors. For once, she didn't think he was checking himself out. Alec asked who had beaten them up so badly. "Trust me, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Alec's mouth twisted. He started a newer _iratze_ on the back of her arm. "You can tell me what Jace did then, what he thinks was so awful."

Their eyes locked. He finished the rune but didn't step back. "It's bad, Alec." She whispered. "It's really bad and I don't know how to help him."

His face softened and he nodded, not saying anything. He looked her over, giving her a satisfied look. "You'll be okay. Physically, anyway. Mentally…you might want to look into a therapist."

She shoved him playfully and they rejoined the others. Jace, however, remained at his post by the glass doors.

"Simon said he was summoned here. I know it was by Lilith." Isabelle said. "But how did the three of you get here?"

Clary and Eliza shared a look. "Jace kind of…brought us here." Clary mumbled.

Eliza's jaw locked. "That demon bitch was controlling him. She made him kidnap us and bring us here."

"She possessed him?" Isabelle gasped. Possession didn't go around a lot anymore.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Jace move. He had turned back towards them. He drew his shirt aside, showing off the Mark that Lilith had emblazoned on him. It was sliced through with a deep gash. "With this." His voice was blank.

Alec asked where Lilith was. He said that the only for sure way to break a connection like that was to kill the demon. Proudly, Clary said that Simon had killed her. Isabelle explained that when Simon disappeared from the party, they went to look for him and found a card that had one of Lilith's other names on it. While Clary and Eliza explained what happened, Alec went to send a fire message to Clave requested immediate backup.

Isabelle went ballistic when they said that Jonathan was outside on the terrace, not quite dead.

"Oh, hell no. Not quite dead isn't good enough for me." She flared. "I'm going to cut him into a million pieces and then set him on fire."

She started out towards the terrace, but Eliza grabbed her and pushed her back. "No." She growled at Izzy. Everyone looked at her. "The ritual that Lilith was trying to perform, she didn't complete it, but she accomplished some of it. She's Marked the both of them, tethered them to one another. She couldn't kill Jace, because then Jonathan couldn't come back. If you hurt Jonathan, you hurt Jace."

Izzy's eyes flashed. Clary covered her mouth, shaking her head. "We can't just let him live!" Izzy shouted.

"You have my full permission to continue killing him." Jace chimed in, still not sounding like himself.

"Shut up." Alec told him. "Iz, be rational. Once the Clave gets here, they'll send him down to the Silent Brothers. They can break the connection between him and Jace. After that, he can die. We aren't the only ones who lost something because of him. He's a murderer and he's the son of Valentine." He explained, hugging her to his side.

Eliza arched an eyebrow. "Oh, well, if the qualification for a town square hanging is being the child of Valentine, sign me up."

He rolled his eyes, saying she knew what he meant. Isabelle drew back from him. "I'm going downstairs. Knowing I'm this close to that bastard makes me sick. Plus, we need to find Maia and Jordan."

Eliza looked at Alec. He gave her a stiff nod. She crossed the room, putting a cautious hand on Jace's shoulder. "Hey, come on. Let's get you fixed up." She murmured.

He shook his head. "I'll stay here and wait for the Clave. It's all my fault anyway."

"I'll stay with you. You shouldn't be alone."

He didn't look back at her. "I need to be alone."

She drew her hand back but didn't make a move to leave. She stared back at his reflection, muddled in the glass. "Too bad. Wanting to be alone and needing to be alone are two very different things. And you definitely don't need to be alone." She turned back to the group and gave Alec a confirming nod.

He pressed the button to the elevator. It dinged, the doors opened, they got in, and disappeared for their descent.

She took a step forward and slipped her hand into Jace's. He stiffened, every part of him tensing up. She roped their fingers together, squeezing his hand gently.

He ripped away from her as if she had electrocuted him. He pulled his arms closer to his body and shouldered through the doors out to the terrace.

She watched him through the glass, kneeling down on the steps, his head bent in observance. Was he _praying_? Jace didn't pray. He didn't even believe.

Was he so desperate to be away from her that he was willing to fake pray?

Suddenly angry, she pushed through the doors. The tiles of the floor were cold against her bare feet. She reminded herself to later ask about the whereabouts of her shoes. "Fake praying is so not going to work-."

He stood up and she cut her words off. He held something small and glittering in his hand. His Morgenstern ring hung from its chain in his hand. Her shoulders relaxed. "I didn't want to forget it." He said as. A gust of wind blew over them. "That sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

She shook her head. "It isn't. It's your ring and it means a lot to you." She took a cautious step towards him, waiting to see if he would back away or stay still. "Jace, I know you think that you're at fault for all of this, but you aren't." She said slowly. "What you did wasn't you. Lilith was possessing you."

Jace looked away from her, his gaze resting on the glass coffin where her brother resided. "I _hurt_ you, Liz. I promised you that I would never hurt you and then I did. I lied to you and I held a knife to your throat and I cut you."

She took another step. He stayed put. "Because you were forced to do it. I don't blame you, not for any of it." Another step. "I forgive you. You need to forgive yourself." She finally reached him. Close enough to touch, but he felt worlds away. He told her he didn't think he could. She grabbed his hand, curling both of hers around it. "You are capable of so much forgiveness, Jace. Trust me. I never thought you would forgive me for the things I did, the lies I told. But you did. If you can forgive me for that, you can forgive yourself for this."

She squeezed his hand, causing him to look her in the eye. His eyes flickered down, finding the place where he had cut her. It had healed. They continued down, resting on her chest. The fabric had torn, revealing a stark white rune over her heart. His brow furrowed. He shook her hands off his and inspected her right hand.

"Did you get married?" He asked dully. "Without me?"

She wanted to smile but couldn't find it in herself to do so. "Lilith's doing." She told her. "Her own way of tethering me to Jonathan. Some sick and twisted twin thing she was working." His jaw was locked tightly in frustration. "You know good and well that any wedding of mine is going to have you right next to me." She said.

He examined the rune on her hand, a frown on his face. "We've got to get the Silent Brothers to get these off you."

She laughed quietly, nodding in agreement. "Speaking of, well, kind of. We have to schedule a date." He cocked an eyebrow, asking what for. "Well, my original dress for tonight, it needs to be worn. It was kind of…special."

"What are you talking about? Did it light up or something?"

Her cheeks went warm. "No, it didn't do anything special. It just…" she groaned, "I was kind of planning on tonight being…you know, our…our first…"

His eyes lit with understanding. "Liz, oh, God. I'm sorry." He pulled her closer. "You didn't have to get a special dress or anything. And you certainly didn't have to feel rushed about anything like that."

She pulled him down, pressing a soft kiss against his mouth. "I know."

Down below on the street, she heard tires screeching. She backed away from him and they moved over to the edge of the terrace. Several black cars had pulled up to the building, along with a familiar beat-up old truck. From way up, she spotted Luke, Jocelyn, and Maryse.

"The Clave's here." Jace observed. "Finally."

Eliza looked back over at the coffin. Her nose wrinkled as her mouth curled in disgust. "We should go downstairs." She told Jace. "If I'm not downstairs, my mom will come up here and she'll see-." She cut herself off. "She shouldn't have to see him."

Jace shook his head. "Go on. I'll stay here and wait for the others to come up." He took her hand opening it up. He dropped the Morgenstern ring in her hand. "You should have it. You're a Morgenstern, the last _real_ Morgenstern."

She turned it over between her fingers. She slipped the chain over her head and around her neck. "I'll come back as soon as possible." A light breeze blew his golden curls against his forehead. "Wait for me?"

He smiled down at her. "Always." He pushed her hair back behind her ears. He kissed her forehead, his lips cool against her skin. "See you soon."

An uneasy feeling filled her stomach, but she pushed it out of thought. How could anything bad happen now? She touched his cheek and turned, heading back for the apartment and the world below.

* * *

She found her family- what a weird thing to say!- down on the main level of the building. Clary and Luke were hugging. Simon was next to them. Jocelyn stood next to them, her eyes surveying the room expectantly. Her eyes widened when they landed on Eliza.

Eliza found herself running to her mother, Jocelyn's arms folding around her. "Mom." She whispered, wrapping her own arms around her mother.

"I was so worried when I didn't see you with Clary." Jocelyn told her. She pulled away, inspecting her. "God, look at you. Are you all right? What happened?" Her eyes flitted down to her chest, widening even further at the sight of the Commitment rune over her heart. She took her hand, glowering at the Wedded Union rune. "Eliza Seraphine, what in the name of the Angel-?"

She snatched her hand back. "It isn't what you think, I promise." It was worse, a million times worse.

There was no way she could tell her mom about Jonathan. Or Lilith. Jocelyn would lose her mind. She'd never let Clary or Eliza out of her sight again.

"We can talk about it later." She told her. "I just realized that I never told you that I love you."

Jocelyn's green eyes shifted. "You never needed to, Eliza." She looked between Clary and Eliza. "I love the two of you more than anything or anyone else. You know that, don't you?" Eliza said yes quietly. She had never doubted for one second that Jocelyn loved her children. Jocelyn looked past her. "Where's Jace?"

"Shit!" Eliza said without thinking. Both Jocelyn and Luke raised their eyebrows. "I left him upstairs. I'll be right back."

Jocelyn started to say something, but Eliza didn't give her the time. She darted back to the elevators, slamming her hand against the button. It took what seemed like hours for the elevator to arrive. She practically leapt inside and hit the top-most button.

Her leg bounced, hands shaking at her side. She didn't know what he could possibly get himself in to in only a few minutes.

It felt like years before the elevator dinged.

She walked through the empty apartment, making her way to the terrace garden. Jace was standing at the coffin. She could hear his voice, a low mutter of words she didn't understand. The liquid inside the coffin had turned a dark red, the color of blood.

A noise escaped her throat as the boy in the coffin sat up, his eyes open. She saw them join hands, a trail of blood running down their arms.

"No." She whispered. "Oh, God, no."

Simultaneously, they both looked back at her. Jace's gold eyes. Jonathan's black ones. They both smiled.


	39. Chapter 39

City of Lost Souls

 **November**

In the back of her mind, she could hear Magnus' voice. Calling her, trying to find her. All of his efforts- combined with those of the Clave- were futile. She knew this because they hadn't been found.

He never failed to let her know that they wouldn't stop looking until they found them. Her and Jace. He didn't know that they would never find them because they didn't want to be found.

That day, the market was bustling. She had not just been sent for food. She had been sent for someone.

She could see the man from the corner of her eye. He was trying to haggle with the woman selling plums.

" _Mademoiselle, achetez-vous les pommes?"_ She put her full attention back on the elderly woman in front of her. She was gesturing to the handful of apples Eliza had put in the basket.

" _Oui._ " Eliza nodded. The woman held her hand out, waiting for her to drop some sort of payment. She looked at the sign. The apples were priced much too high for her liking. She let her gaze fall back on the woman. She narrowed her eyes, concentrating on the woman. " _Vous me les donnez sans frais._ " She said slowly.

Without fail, the woman's eyes seemed to glaze over with a hazy, blank look. She nodded heavily. " _Prenez-les gratuitement._ "

Eliza smiled brightly. " _Merci._ "

She turned from the booth, walking right towards the woman selling the plums. The man was still there, arguing that she had priced her plums too high. It seemed all of the Marseille market vendors had agreed to overprice their goods.

She walked past the man, being sure to bump into him. He startled, spilling the contents of his own basket to the ground. She let out a gasp, halting herself. " _Je suis vraimen desole! Laissez-moi vous aider._ " She insisted, dropping to her knees to start putting his items back in the basket. The soft cotton of the dress brushed against her knees.

He knelt down to her level. " _Laisse le. Ne t'inquiete pas._ " He had two dark grey horns growing from his temples, something she was sure the vendors could not see.

In French, she asked if he was sure, once again insisting to help. She then offered to pay for what she had ruined. He assured her there was no foul and nothing to forgive. They both stood. He was shorter than both Jace and her brother, only an inch or so taller than her.

Demurely, she smiled, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. " _Tu dois me laisser me faire pardoner_." He stared back at her. She suggested he come back with her and let her cook him dinner. Almost in too dark a tone, he asked her age. She smiled again, saying she was twenty-two.

She held out her hand and he took it. Holding on to him tightly, she led him from the market. The apartment was not far from the town center, less than a mile. It was a peaceful walk over cobblestone streets and past old buildings, new life breathed into them.

The apartment was just by the sea, overlooking the sparkling water. He followed her up the steps and waited for her to open the door. The front room was empty, save for the couch and coffee table. She could see the kitchen on the other side.

She motioned for him to sit on the couch and told him to wait while she put her things away and grabbed a bottle of wine. She left him on the couch, journeying into the kitchen. She put away the apples and the cheese in the fridge. There was still meat, which meant she wouldn't need to go to the butcher's again before they moved on. She grabbed the wine bottle from the counter, going back into the living room.

The warlock was tied up on the couch, two young men on each of his sides. He gave her a terrified look. " _Aidez moi!_ " He begged.

She frowned, putting the wine down. "You never let me have any fun." She pouted, looking at the taller boy. "I wanted to tie him up."

He gave her a hard look. "And here I thought the fun part was luring him here, little sister."

She set her mouth. "Only a little." The man looked between them, wriggling in his binds. He begged her again to help him, to let him go. She walked over to him, holding his chin in her hand. "Now why would I do that?" She asked him. "You have information my brother needs. Tell us and we will let you go."

They looked the same, she and Jonathan. They were both tall and slim-made, with the same slender hands and regal face structure. The same dark black eyes.

He said if they didn't kill him, he would tell them anything. "Speak English, denizen. You make French sound horrible." She told him. "Warlocks." She shook her head with a sigh.

"Shadowhunters. I should have known." He finally spoke.

"But you didn't. Which was very stupid on your part, I must say." Jonathan told him. She agreed with him.

Jonathan began questioning him on the whereabouts of an important book he needed. The warlock insisted that he didn't know where it was. He looked at all of them, his eyes settling on Eliza. "You! I knew I recognized you! Magnus Bane is searching for you! Your face is in the minds of all warlocks in the world." He told her. "He's willing to pay a pretty penny for your return."

She took out a small knife from under her dress. She ran it over his cheek. "It's very unfortunate that you've seen me, then." She said. He asked why. "We can't have Magnus, or anyone for that matter, knowing where we are or what we're doing."

His eyes widened. "You said you would let me go!"

She grinned, something about the gesture seemed almost evil. "Yes, well, I lied. It's kind of my thing." She twisted the knife over her fingers. And then she shoved it through his chest.

He coughed, blood spewing onto her face. She crinkled her nose, turning back to the boys.

"Eliza, we didn't have the information yet." Jonathan chastised her. "He was a good lead."

She took the knife out, inspecting the blood on the blade. She wiped it off on the dress, tossing the knife on the table. "And now he's a dead lead." She replied coolly. Deep down, she knew killing him was wrong. He hadn't broken the Accords. He hadn't killed a mundane or a Shadowhunter. She just didn't care anymore.

His eyes flashed. "Don't ever say I don't let you have fun." He grabbed the man's arms and began hauling him from the living room.

Her eyes settled on Jace. "Did you miss me?" She asked, her voice lilting back towards French. " _Oui ou non?_ "

He reached, wiping a dot of blood from her cheek. It smeared a mark. " _Oui_."

" _Combien?_ " She asked.

He pulled her to him, both his hands holding her neck. " _Laisse moi te montrer_." He kissed her, his mouth rough against hers. His hold was tight. It didn't seem like she could get him close enough.

Behind them, Jonathan cleared his throat. "We've got work to do, since _someone_ ," he glared at her, "killed our last lead."

They broke apart, not willingly. Jace had blood on his face and mouth. She smirked, murmured that they would continue later.

* * *

Her finger traced lightly over the scarlet rune on his chest. It stood out against the dark black of his permanent Marks and the dewy silver of the past ones. " _Est-ce que tu m'aimes?_ " She murmured, her lips grazing the line of his jaw.

She felt him shudder. His hands gripped her waist. "More than an angel loves the heavens." He replied hoarsely.

She smiled down at him, her dark eyes softening. "You mean it?" She pressed a kiss to the spot just under his jaw.

Jace sat up and she drew away. His shirt hung on her loosely, their legs tangled in the sheets. "You know I do." He twirled a piece of her hair around his finger. "Have you heard from Magnus?" His voice dropped lower.

Her eyes flickered, then narrowed. "He is relentless." It had been several weeks. No one was giving up. "My mother thought we eloped at first."

It got a smile from Jace. "Maybe we should." He said. "Elope, I mean." He put his hand over the place where her Commitment rune rested. "We'd just have to…figure out a way around these."

Eliza got up from the bed. His shirt went just to the middle of her thighs. "We aren't eighteen yet." He said that was the point of eloping.

Before she could respond, there was a sharp knock on the door. It opened, revealing her brother. "God, do the two of you have any dignity?" He covered his eyes. Eliza brightly said no. "Find some clothes. We've got work to do." He closed the door loudly.

Eliza looked back at Jace. "There's always work." She pouted. "Never any fun."

He drew up to his knees, moving towards her. He was on the edge of the bed, fingering the hem of the tee shirt. "No fun at all?" He arched an eyebrow. "And here I thought we'd been having fun the past few hours." His lips quirked curiously.

She smacked his shoulder lightly. "That is _not_ what I meant, Jace!" She laughed. "I meant that we never get to go and see the world. We always have things to do."

He pulled her down on the bed, laying her on top of him. "He knows what he's doing." He reminded her. He cupped her face. "When we're married, I'll take you everywhere, show you everything, anything you want to see."

There was a hidden phrase there. He wanted to marry her, they'd elope if need be. But nothing would be done until Jonathan's plan was acted out fully. Whatever he was planning.

* * *

"This is a terrible idea." Eliza said for the thousandth time. "A horrible idea." Both the boys looked back at her. "We're going to get caught."

Sharply, Jonathan told her to be quiet. "We'll get caught if you don't stop talking."

Jace gave her a look that was anything but sympathetic.

The New York Institute had not been warded, the Conclave's biggest mistake. They knew that Jonathan Morgenstern was on the loose. To leave the place unprotected, the place where Jace called home, where she called home. The place that everyone they loved most resided. To leave it un-warded was going to be their downfall.

Just as Jace had predicted, the Institute was empty. They were in the foyer, the world around them silent as could be.

"Show me where the library is. What we need is in there." Jonathan told them. Eliza hesitated getting out of the elevator. "What's wrong?" Jonathan asked her. "Having second thoughts?"

She shook her head. "You two go on. I need something from my room." Jonathan's face tightened. "Knives." She elaborated.

Jace reassured Jonathan. "She won't get caught. Liz is like a shadow."

Relenting, Jonathan gave a strict nod. She said she would meet them in the library.

Her feet were silent as she sprinted through the Institute. The halls were empty and she wondered where Isabelle was. Where Clary was. Were they out searching for them? Were they training? Out on a hunt?

Church was laying in front of her bedroom door. Her heart pinched. All she wanted was to pick him up and snuggle him against her chest. But she didn't have time for that. She nudged him aside with her foot, slipping through the crack in the door.

Her room was still the same. Slightly messy. Weapons tossed anywhere and everywhere. She knelt down beside her bed, prying a piece of floorboard up. There were several bundles of throwing knives hidden there. They had already been Marked. She stuffed them inside her coat. She looked around. Deep down, she wanted to return, she knew she was doing something wrong by being with Jonathan, but she couldn't turn away from him. She didn't know how. Whatever was wrong, it felt right and that was all that mattered.

She left her room. She crept through the halls, making her way back to the library. Church had followed her, meowing and growling at her.

Jace and Jonathan were in the middle of the library, talking quietly to one another. Standing under the skylight, they both glimmered and shone with unnatural beauty. Neither of them looked as if they were from this world. Jace, an angel sent from the heavens. Jonathan, one of the Fair Folk.

"Good, you're back." Jonathan noticed her first. "Did you get what you needed?" He asked. She opened her coat, revealing the bundles of knives. "Do you happen to know where the summoning books are? Jace doesn't seem to know the system Hodge used for filing."

Eliza said it was a shame Jonathan had killed him then. They could have used his knowledge. He agreed with her. "We'll look down here. You check upstairs." She said. "We need to be in and out before anyone returns."

He nodded, heading for the stairs. "Don't start making out while I'm gone. Like you said, in and out."

Something about the library felt _off_. She couldn't place it, but there was a sinking feeling in her stomach. It was not unlike the feeling she had gotten the numerous times Hugin and Munin had spied on her.

She grinned, grabbing Jace's hand and made a promise not to promise anything wouldn't happen. She dragged him back to the shelves. "Hodge really should have employed a system." She muttered under her breath.

Who knew how long it would take the find the summoning books?

"Found them." Jace said. "He put them in the 'Nonlethal Magic' section." He pulled out one of the books, holding it up for Jonathan to see.

Jonathan hadn't even made it up the stairs yet. "Sounds like a boring section." He strode over to them. Jace had taken several of the books, stacking them in his arms.

"Now that we have them, I need to go to _my_ room and get some things." Jonathan asked what he needed. "Clothes."

"We don't have the time."

"Liz had time to go to her room." Jace pointed out.

Jonathan shrugged. "She moved quickly. Much like we need to do now before we're seen. Besides, she needed weapons. Your clothes are not necessarily important when you have all the funds necessary to buy new ones."

Jace pulled a face. "My favorite jacket is just as important as Eliza's knives."

"I beg to differ." Eliza added. She said that her knives were useful, not a fashion statement.

Jonathan agreed with her once again. "Besides, in a few weeks, we'll be running this place. You can live without it until then. We need weapons now." He explained to Jace. He grabbed onto the back of Jace's jacket. "Liz."

She plastered herself at his other side, snaking her arm around his waist. Jonathan reached, turning the slim silver ring that decorated the index finger of his right hand.

Around them, the library faded, a painted doused with water, until it became nothing.

* * *

Jace was asleep, a pastime he had taken up over the past couple weeks. The six weeks of sleep deprivation had caught up to him. When they weren't hunting or researching, he slept. She liked him when he slept. He was at peace. No more nightmares plagued him.

He wasn't just sleeping, he was resting.

"I have a proposition." Her brother said.

It had been a few hours since they had returned from the Institute. They were in the small living area, reading through the books they had taken. Jace was asleep in their room. He liked to take a short nap before dinner some nights.

"I'm listening." She didn't look up from the book.

"Lilith bound us together with a Dark magic. She brought us together when our father forced us apart." He said. "You and I, we're the same now. I always told Father you would succumb to your true self eventually. And you have."

She marked her page in the book, looking over at him. "Is there a point to this?"

He stood up, putting his book on the table. "There is no better pair than the two of us, little sister. You and I have no better match than the other. Now, we fight as well together as you and Jace." She told him to get to the point. "Be my _parabatai_. We are already stronger than any other Shadowhunter, but bound together as partners…"

She had never thought of having a _parabatai_. Jace and Alec had each other. She could have chosen Isabelle or Clary, but they had never really been in sync with her. _Parabatai_ understood one another on a molecular level when it came to battle. Jace and Alec fought as one person in two bodies. She had never had someone like that.

"That's a big decision to make." She noted.

"It's the _right_ decision. Liz," he had taken this name up from Jace, "there is no reason as to why we shouldn't become _parabatai_. If it is as Lilith said and we were meant to be together in life and death, this is just another testament to the fact."

She stood up, leaving her book on the couch. "We can't exactly go to the Council and have them perform the ceremony."

He smiled crookedly. "Then we will do it as Jonathan Shadowhunter and David the Silent did."

She took out her stele and he took out his. She produced a knife from her belt. She sliced a thin line down the palm of his right hand. Blood welled immediately. She handed the knife to him and he made an identical cut on her right palm. Dropping the knife, he grasped her hand in his. The cut burned as he held her hand tight against his.

Together, they spoke the oath, as countless other pairs before them had, " _Entreat me not to leave thee,_ _or return from following after thee—for whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried. The Angel do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me._ " Each word was spoken in meticulous fashion, every syllable pronounced sharply.

They stared back at one another, black eyes locked on black eyes.

They placed the rune on one another, the sides of their necks.

"There." Jonathan sighed. "Nothing can stop us now."

Between the Dark-made Wedded Union and Commitment runes, and now the _parabatai_ rune, the Morgenstern twins would never be apart again.

* * *

With a curious mind, she watched her sister sleep. Clary was twisted in the duvet of her bed, her red hair spread over the pillow. She spun the knife in between her fingers as Clary jolted awake.

A breeze blew in from the window. She saw Clary shiver and turn towards the window. Her eyes landed on her. It took a moment for it to register. Clary's eyes widened and in a flash, Eliza was at the side of the bed, her hand pressed over Clary's mouth.

"Shhh, little sister." Eliza shushed her. Clary's breath was hot on her hand. "I'm going to remove my hand. You can't scream. If you scream, I'll leave."

Clary nodded feebly. Eliza removed her hand slowly. "Why are you here?" Clary demanded. "Shouldn't you be reading those books you stole from the Institute?"

Eliza's eyes glinted with amusement. "So, you were the fly on the wall in the library." She sounded mildly impressed. Clary asked how she knew that. "Please, little sister. After years of vigorous training, you think I wouldn't notice we weren't alone?"

"And Jace and Jonathan? They didn't know?"

She shook her head. "Jace is too eager to please. And Jonathan was too preoccupied with the mission."

Clary leaned back against the headboard. "You're okay, both of you? I mean, he isn't hurting you guys or anything, is he?"

Sharply, Eliza said no. "We're fine. More than fine."

The bedroom door opened. Eliza barely moved, her head only turning. Jonathan and Jace were in the doorway.

"Aren't the two of you a pretty sight?" Jonathan said. "When was the last time the three Morgenstern children were all together in the same room?" He asked thoughtfully. His eyes lightened. "Well, all living and as ourselves." He added.

" _Get out_." Clary hissed at him.

He didn't seem surprised by her reaction to him. "I only want some family time."

"I don't care what you want." Clary snarled. "You're a murderer and you are not my brother." Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, at the fresh rune on his neck. She turned back to Eliza, examining the familiar rune on her neck that had never before been there. "What is that?" She pointed to the rune.

Clary knew that Lilith had Marked Eliza and Jonathan with the marriage runes, binding them in some demonic force. It was similar to the way she had bound Jonathan to Jace.

"You know what it is." Eliza replied coolly. "A _parabatai_ rune."

Even in the darkness, she saw her sister's green eyes sharpen with judgement. "You've got to be fu-."

Eliza snapped for her to watch her words carefully. She turned back to Jace and Jonathan. "Five minutes." She told Jonathan. He opened his mouth to respond. " _Five minutes_." She repeated, her voice hard. In a swift movement, Jonathan swung the door shut soundlessly. She looked back at Clary. "Circumstances have changed."

Clary stared back at her as if she were a stranger. "Liz, tell me that this isn't really happening. Tell me that you're only pretending to be on his side, that you're a spy. Tell me anything that isn't what I think is really going on."

"I can't do that." She said quietly. "I won't lie to you."

Clary seemed to deflate. "You hated him." She whispered. "More than anyone else. How could you go from that to….to this?"

Eliza got up from the bed. She paced, holding her hands in front of her. "He's my brother. My twin brother." She glanced at Clary. " _Our_ brother."

But Clary had never really known him. She hadn't shared a womb with him, come into the world with him, grown up with him. She hadn't _felt_ her heart rip in two when he died. No one would ever know Jonathan the way she did. A part of her relished that. No one would ever know them the way they knew each other.

"He's a murderer." Clary reminded her.

Eliza whipped around to face her. "No one is innocent, Clary. Everyone has sins to answer for."

Clary looked murderous. "If you came here to flaunt your newfound relationship with our psycho zombie brother, you can get the hell out of this house. If you're really on his side, I don't want to see you."

Eliza crossed her arms over her chest. She stared down at Clary, a hard look in her dark eyes. "I didn't just come here to have a sisterly chat, Clarissa. I need something from you." Clary asked what that was. For a moment, it seemed as if the hard exterior had worn down. Maybe it was a trick of the shadows, but Eliza's eyes seemed to glint green. "I need you to come with me. With us, I mean."

"Why?"

Eliza's eyes skirted over to the door and then back to Clary. "Something is wrong with me." She whispered in an urgent voice. "It's the marriage runes, the bond. I can't…I can't control myself." Her words strung together in an unceremonious way, blurred into one another quickly. And then, it was as if nothing had been said. Her eyes dissolved, once again becoming hard and cold. Just like Jonathan's.

"You need to kill him." Clary said simply.

Eliza wished it were that simple. And then she chastised herself for thinking such a thing. "I can't do that. Even if I wanted to." Clary asked why not. "He and Jace are bound together by an old and dark magic. If Jonathan dies, Jace dies."

Anyone with half a brain knew that Eliza would _never_ risk Jace's safety like that.

Clary sucked in a breath.

"The world isn't as black and white as you see it, Clary. There are so many variations and shades of grey. I thought an artist as yourself would know that."

A scream in another room kept Clary from replying. She heard something shatter. Eliza darted from the room, running into the living room of Luke's house. The only thing that separated the living room from the kitchen was a long bar counter.

Her mother stood at the counter, a shattered glass at her feet. She wore a frayed shirt and sweatpants, her hair pulled back in a falling bun. Her face was sheet-white, her green eyes wide.

Across from her, in the living room, stood Jonathan. Ever so casually, he was leaned against the wall, staring back at Jocelyn with an emotionless face.

"Jonathan." She heard Jocelyn murmur.

Jace was seated on the couch, watching with mild interest. She heard Clary come from her room, standing behind her.

"Sebastian." Jonathan corrected her. "The name that you and my father bestowed upon me I no longer found myself keen on keeping. Neither of you truly cared for me." He explained to her. "Therefore, the only person who may continue to call me Jonathan is the only person who has ever cared for me. Eliza."

His eyes did not seek her. They didn't have to. He always knew when she was near.

Jocelyn's mouth worked. "Eliza? Where is she? What have you done with her?" She demanded.

Almost smiling, his eyes finally found her. Standing in the hall, waiting to be acknowledged. Slowly, Jocelyn's eyes moved, landing on her. "Eliza. Oh, God."

"Give her some credit, big brother." Eliza's eyes flickered. "She did think you were dead all this time. I got the same look back in July."

Jonathan did not seem amused with her response. Or her devotion to their mother. "A true mother would have known we were alive. She would have felt it. Open your eyes, little sister, she never once cared for us once she saw what our father had made us into."

She began to defend Jocelyn but decided against it. With Jonathan, there was no winning.

"But, no matter. The past is the past." Jonathan continued. "Forgive and forget, right?" He smiled blandly. "Mother, you must admit," he looked to Jocelyn, "I am the perfect son. Handsome, I look just like Dad. And I'm strong, stronger than any other Shadowhunter." Jocelyn asked what he wanted, why he was there. "What I am owed." He replied darkly. "The legacy of the Morgenstern name."

Jocelyn shook her head. "Clary and I are not Morgensterns. And Eliza," she looked at her, green eyes fierce, "if you're as smart as I know you are, you will abandon the name as well." Eliza Fairchild didn't have quite the same ring to it as Eliza Morgenstern. She sounded like the Jocelyn she had first met. Fiery and resilient. "Go now and I won't tell the Clave you were here."

Jonathan didn't move. Their mother was crying and holding a knife she had fumbled from the counter. Luke's _kindjal_. The blade Valentine had pressed into his hand and told him to use to kill himself after he had become a werewolf.

"You're looking at me with all that contempt because I look just my father. That's it, isn't it?" Jonathan asked her. "But then, why do you not stare at Eliza the same way? She too looks just as he did."

"No." Jocelyn said, her voice sharp and sad. "I'm looking at you like this because I know what you are. I know that you're some…demon thing."

The words stung Eliza. She and Jonathan shared the same demon blood. He asked why she didn't turn her contemptuous gaze upon Eliza.

"I _know_ her. I know she isn't like you. You've done something to her, turned her. She was never like you."

Jonathan smiled at her, his teeth gleaming. "See, Mother, that's where you're wrong. She's always been just like me. With me, she is her best self. Her true self."

Jocelyn shook her head defiantly. She knew better than that, she told him. Eliza had been graced with humanity, something Jonathan never had. Where he had to feign some shrapnel of emotion, Eliza _felt_. They may have looked the same, she said, but they would never be the same.

The _kindjal_ came up in her hand, a perfectly made arc. Landed correctly, the blade would have gone clean up and under Jonathan's ribs, sliding into his heart.

He moved faster than most Shadowhunters, swiveling out of her range. The only damage done was a jagged slash across his chest.

"Damn it." Eliza muttered. She could see the bright bloom of scarlet beginning to stain Jace's shirt. She crossed the room hurriedly, kneeling down in front of him. "Are you okay?" She murmured, searching his face.

"I've had worse." He smiled faintly.

That he had.

Eliza stood up, her eyes narrowed at her mother. "Put the knife down, Mom." She instructed her.

Jocelyn held the knife in her hand, her eyes wavering between her two eldest children. "Eliza-."

"I said, _put it down_." Her words came out constricted and thick with anger.

"Mom, do it. Please." Clary put her hand on Jocelyn's shoulder.

Jonathan looked more than pleased at the fact that both of his sisters were defending him against their mother. "I'm flattered, honestly. It isn't every day both of my sisters vouch for my safety."

Clary glared back at him. "I am _not_ defending you. I wouldn't give a rat's ass if you died. But if you die, then Jace dies. And your death would cause Eliza the same pain." She glanced at Jocelyn. "They're all bound together, Mom. Whatever hurts Jonathan will hurt Jace too. And Eliza is his _parabatai_ now."

For flashing moment, a dangerous look flashed in Jocelyn's eyes. Eliza knew it all too well. The look of doing whatever it takes. It was the same look Valentine had in his eyes when he killed them back at Lake Lyn.

"This certainly is an uncomfortable family situation." Jonathan mused. "How lucky for all of us I have nowhere to be so that we can stick around and figure it out."

Eliza shot him a scolding look, whispering for him to tone it down a notch or four. "We didn't come to cause any harm." She told Jocelyn.

"I find that hard to believe."

Luke was standing in the hall. His face was bare of his glasses, an old sweater hanging misshapenly on him, paired with worn out jeans. Not hard to miss was the shotgun he carried, the barrel sawed down unevenly. "Leave Jace and Eliza behind, son of Valentine, and maybe I won't shoot off your leg."

Something about Luke's words made Jonathan smile. It was a grin that reached all across his face. He took several steps towards Luke, disregarding the shotgun pointed straight at him. "Not even acknowledged by a name, any name." Jonathan shook his head. "Son of Valentine, that is what I'm reduced to. You know, had the circumstances been different, Lucian," Jonathan smiled again, not as pleasantly as before, "you could have been my godfather."

Luke's finger made its presence on the trigger of the shotgun. "Maybe then you would have been human."

"You as well, werewolf."

The barrel wasn't aimed at his leg, not even close. It was centered perfectly on his chest. Right where his heart was. It would blow a hole right through him.

"I think that's quite enough for one evening." Eliza said tiredly. Her movements did not match her tone. She moved quickly towards her brother.

"Luke, _no_." Clary's voice was stringent.

Eliza grabbed his arm as Luke's finger pressed down on the trigger. Jace moved like lightning, launching from the couch towards Luke. He slammed into him, the blast from the gun ringing out. Eliza swung Jonathan around, replacing him where he had been standing.

She heard the window shatter. The gun was thrown out the window and she looked back.

Luke swung, punching Jace in the face. The force of the hit sent him hurtling into the wall.

An inhuman noise escaped from Jonathan. There was blood on his mouth, seeping from a thin cut on his bottom lip. He produced a thin dagger from his belt and shoved past Eliza. She reached, grabbing his arm. "Don't." She warned him.

He jerked away. With the speed only two other Shadowhunters possessed, he moved towards Luke and pushed the dagger into his chest. The thrust had gone deep, for when Jonathan pulled the dagger out, it was covered up to the hilt in blood.

Luke fell against the wall, holding his chest with his hand. She heard Jocelyn screaming wordlessly. Jonathan held the dagger in his hand, poised for another blow. A fatal one.

Clary knocked into him, the dagger falling to the floor. He whirled around on her. Jace grabbed Jonathan just as Eliza grabbed Clary, both holding them back.

"We didn't come here for this." Jace reminded Jonathan. "Stop." His face had lost its color. Jonathan struggled against him, but Jace didn't budge. He reached around, grabbing onto Jonathan's hand. The ring glinted at her.

She looked back at the family she was leaving behind. Luke, bleeding on the floor, ruining the carpet. Her mother, her hand curled around Luke's _kindjal_. Clary, looking at her as if she were a stranger.

Maybe she was.

" _Lizzie_." Jonathan hissed out. Under Jace's arm, his own was extending, reaching out for her. She took his hand and they were gone.


	40. Chapter 40

She dabbed the cloth against Jace's mouth, wiping away the blood. "That was incredibly stupid of you." She whispered.

"He was going to shoot him."

She shook her head slowly. "I don't think so. Besides, I was in the position to move him to safety. Luke could have shot you on accident."

She plucked her stele from the bathroom counter, using it to draw over his old _iratze_.

"Move him to safety? Liz, Luke would have ended up shooting _you_."

They shared a quiet look. Jonathan was the most important. He couldn't be hurt. The cut on Jace's lip healed fast and within seconds, she couldn't tell there had ever been a split lip in the first place.

" _I_ don't pose a threat to anyone the way the two of you do. If Jonathan would have been shot, you would have suffered the same fate. And I'm not going to let anything happen to you." She leaned in to kiss him, her lips barely brushing against his as the bathroom door opened.

"Seriously?"

Jonathan leaned against the door frame. Eliza glared back at him. His lip, just as Jace's, had healed. "You could learn to knock and save us all the pain." Jace suggested.

Jonathan huffed in response, his eyes falling on Eliza. "Get changed. I need you to procure something for me." She asked what it was. "Vampire blood. There is a bleeder den not far from here. Pick one and bring the thing back."

Jace rose from his spot on the side of the bathtub. "I can go. I don't like sending her out for this stuff all the time." Jonathan said his attachment and protective nature was endearing, but he would not work. "Why not?" He asked. "You send her all the time to bring back these shady guys. I don't like it."

"You and I both know Eliza is more than capable of protecting herself. And as for this particular hunt, Jace, your face is pretty, but it won't work. This is a job for a-."

"A seductress." Eliza finished for him. "It's not a typical bleeder den, is it?"

Jonathan said no, it wasn't. "I believe there is a certain form of… _entertainment_ the Night Children partake in while feeding on the souls of desolate and deprived women."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jace asked them. "Where are you sending her?"

Eliza smiled at him. She put a hand on his shoulder. "A gentlemen's club. It's a gentlemen's club for vampires."

Jace stiffened and then said there was absolutely no way in hell she was going.

"I'll need a password to get in." She told Jonathan, disregarding Jace. "They won't let any old girl in from the streets.

"Sure they will." Jonathan assured her. "You'll make them."

* * *

London was not a warm city. Especially at night. And especially when one was not covered in the typical clothing.

Jonathan had presented her with an elegant black gown that looked more like lingerie than evening wear. The thin wrap didn't help much either.

The thin spikes of the heels clicked on the pavement as she grew closer to her destination. The club was just up ahead. As predicted, there were two guards stationed by the door of the refined looking townhome.

Before leaving, she had glamoured herself so that her runes wouldn't show. They'd never let a Nephilim in.

"Hello gentlemen." She graced them with her best smile. "Care to let a girl in from the cold?"

They looked at her and then at each other. "Password?" The larger of the two asked.

"Pretty please?" She simpered.

"No password, no entry."

She fought off a frown.

"Fellows, this is no way to treat a lady." A voice came from behind her. She turned.

For a vampire, the man was exceptionally good looking. Fine black hair that was slicked back and curled just under his ears. Piercing blue eyes. Regal bone structure.

"Sir." Both the guards nodded.

The man extended the crook of his elbow to her. "She is my guest and will be treated with the same respect as all my other guests."

She slipped her arm through his and joined at his side. She nodded to the guards as they walked up the steps and into the house. "So, this is your party?" She asked.

He looked at her with a peculiar interest. "Do you often attend parties without knowing the host?" She said it came about on occasion, she couldn't know everyone. "I suppose not. You mortals have unfortunately short lives. Tell me your name. I must know it, you are my guest of honor."

"Seraphina." She replied easily.

"A gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl." He supplemented. "I am Edward Delancey. Let's get you a drink." She didn't think it would be very difficult to lure him back to the apartment. He was interested, which wouldn't end well for him.

The townhouse was bigger on the inside than she would have imagined. It opened up into a grand space filled with people. Men wore fine-tailored suits and drank thick liquid from wine champagne glasses. Women were everywhere, floating in brightly colored gowns. Covered in bite marks.

Deeper into the recesses of the room, she could see the feedings. All the men were vampires, and some had snuck off for a snack.

"It is most unusual for you to be unaccompanied, sweet Seraphina." Edward handed her a glass of champagne. He had his own flute, filled near to the brim with scarlet liquid. "I provide a modest number of girls for my guests, but many often bring their own. And yet, you are not one of mine and you came alone."

She took a sip of the champagne. "Are you complaining?" She asked demurely. "I can leave, if you'd like. I'm sure someone around London is willing to show an honest American girl a good time."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Why do I get the feeling there is nothing honest about you?"

She finished her champagne. "No idea."

He took the champagne flute, setting it on a nearby table. "Come. I believe we've made enough small talk." Before she could react, he had hold of her arm and was dragging her up the rounded staircase to the second level. As they passed by the balcony, she swore she saw-.

The back of her head slammed against the wall and his mouth was on hers. She shoved him back. Dark lipstick was smeared across his mouth.

"What are you doing?" She snarled.

She had never seen someone look so offended. "Seraphina, tell me, what do you believe happens at these parties?"

"The girls, they're bleeders. You feed on them, keep them around."

He laughed, the sound short and detached. "How oblivious you are, little one. They are blood whores. Available for…an array of services, if you will."

Her breath caught. Surely Jonathan hadn't known…No, he wouldn't have sent her if he had.

"I was clearly mistaken on the nature of this soiree." She slid against the wall. She hadn't brought any weapons, a foolish mistake. Then again, she hadn't thought she would need any. "I don't offer those services."

He was on her again, his hands pressing down on her shoulders. "You were invited in, sweet Seraphina. My guest of honor." She could feel his breath on her neck, the tip of his nose against her jaw. "You won't be going anywhere until I've made you mine."

"Delancey, step away from the girl."

She knew that voice. She would recognize it anywhere.

Edward didn't move, his hold on her still tight. "Hell has frozen over indeed." He breathed.

It was Declan Kensley, head of the London vampire clan. Her ex-boyfriend. He was dressed casually in tan dress pants, a dark blue sweater, and a chestnut colored overcoat.

"The girl. Let her go." Declan motioned towards her.

She was screwed. So screwed.

Edward grinned back at him. "Come, brother. We could share her, just as we shared Adelaide. I'm sure she will taste just as sweet."

Adelaide? What the-.

It clicked.

Edward. Adelaide. Declan had told her the story of his transformation. His brother-in-law, Edward, had turned him and made him feed on his sister, Adelaide.

"I know just how she tastes, thank you. She is _mine_." He said the word as if it meant more than it did. His fangs were bared, something she had never seen before. He had never bared them as a threat, they had only occasionally made an accidental appearance.

"Is that so?" Edward asked.

Declan said yes. "Check her neck there. I've made it known."

Edward pushed aside the curls of her hair. His finger traced over the jagged scar on her neck. "So, you do like it rough then, brother?" Edward chuckled. "I always knew you had a dark side."

"I am not your brother." Declan reminded him. "Our acquaintance ended the night you killed me. Now, hand her here and we'll be going."

Like a rag doll, he shoved Eliza towards Declan. "She's yours. She smells a little too like demon for my taste." He shoved past both of them, returning to the party down below.

"Eliza-."

"I have to go."

She took off, carefully running down the stairs. She darted out the door and down the stone steps, past the guards. She heard one of them say something about being too young.

Declan was in front of her. "I'm so sorry." He said tightly. His arm wound back, and his hand smacked against her.

The last thing she saw was the ground coming up towards her.

* * *

Her vision blurred into focus. Two shapes became more distinct. Men. Both men.

"Jonathan?" She rasped.

"Shh, little dove, you're safe."

Little dove.

Her head snapped up.

"Magnus."

He was standing next to Declan. Neither of them looked very happy to see her.

She looked around, eyes scouring the room. Two full-sized beds that didn't look like they had been used. It was a small room.

Hotel, they were in a hotel room.

"You need to let me go." She told them. "Let me go." She jerked her arms. The ropes they had used to bind her were a little too tight. "Please let me go."

"You're safe here." Magnus repeated. "Jonathan can't hurt you here."

Hurt her? Did everyone think she was being held against her will.

"He'd never….He wouldn't hurt me." Magnus and Declan shared a look. "He's going to look for me. He'll find me."

"I've put up wards. You're safe from him while you're here." Magnus said. "I need to ask you a few questions, little dove." She shook her head, saying she wouldn't answer anything. Not until they untied her. "If we untie you, you must promise you won't run or attack us. We want to help you."

"Best leave me tied then." She settled into the chair. Magnus sighed dramatically. "How did you find me? I haven't let you in my head in weeks."

Magnus crossed his arms over his chest. "We've been looking for you for weeks, Eliza. Alec told me that Clary spotted you at the Institute. And then, your mother and sister show up at my apartment saying that you, your brother, and Jace attacked them and your brother nearly killed Luke."

"Is he all right?" She asked softly. "Luke."

"Perhaps. The dagger was pure silver. A potentially fatal object to a werewolf." He looked her in the eye. "He could have died."

She bit down. "Jonathan was protecting Jace. Luke hit him." She said indignantly. "That still doesn't explain how you found me."

He pulled back from her, rejoining Declan across from her.

Declan spoke, "I've been back in London for some time. There was unrest among my clan in my absence. Edward Delancey has been trying to create a new clan, persuading vampires over to his side with the promise of unlimited blood. I got word of his party and decided to end him. That is when I saw you. He was treating you like some common blood whore."

She rolled her eyes. "Ever the savior, aren't you?" She hissed. "Let me guess. You got your rocks off saving me from your dick of a brother-in-law and then decided to call Magnus. Right?"

He said it was something like that. Magnus had informed him to keep an eye out and Declan promised to let him know if he heard or saw anything. Immediately upon seeing her, he had called Magnus and told him to report to London. "You didn't seem willing to come on your own. I am sorry I had to hit you."

"That's enough small talk." Magnus decided. "What are you doing with Jonathan? Are you protecting Jace? Is he holding the two of you hostage?" She didn't appreciate the implication of his words. "If Jonathan is forcing the two of you to do his bidding, the Clave will be understanding. They will be lenient."

"I am not under duress." The notion of Jonathan forcing her to do anything was preposterous. "Is the idea of me actually wanting to be with my brother so ridiculous that you will only believe it's because I'm being forced to?" Quietly, Magnus said yes. "Okay. Let me get this straight. You watched me pine after Jace for weeks while under the assumption that he was my brother, and you remained silent. But now that I want to be around my true brother, I must be under some kind of mind-control or something. Interesting logic."

"Jonathan Morgenstern is a sadistic murderer!" Magnus' voice rose. She couldn't recall ever hearing him yell before. "He murdered Max Lightwood and Sebastian Verlac. He attacked Isabelle. He tortured you for years. He's tried to kill you on several occasions. He-."

"He's my brother!" She shouted at him.

They both stepped back against the wall. She yanked on the restraints. One forceful pull and the ropes snapped. She jumped from the chair.

"Jonathan is _my brother_." She snarled. "I am not under his duress. I am not being forced. My mind is not being controlled. I am not playing pretend and secretly spying on him. I am not protecting Jace because he doesn't need my protection. Jonathan wouldn't harm either of us." She told them. Her voice was calmer than she felt, her heart beating erratically in her chest. "With Jonathan is where I am supposed to be. We were never meant to be apart. Life, death, every step of the way. Lilith said so."

Magnus' cat eyes widened. "Lilith said that?" She said yes. "I see."

"What do you-?"

Her question fell short as Magnus' arms extended out, his palms turned towards her. A dark blue mist spread from his hands, enshrouding her.

"What are you doing?" Declan asked him.

"Magnus, stop." She demanded.

The yellow of his eyes was brightened by his use of magic. "Lilith bound Jace to Jonathan and I have no doubts that she did the same with Eliza." His magic stripped off her glamour. Her runes appeared, dark black ink swirled over the pale of her skin. "See there, on her chest? A demonic version of the Commitment rune. And on her hand." The Marks were a bright white, glowing off her skin.

Declan hummed drearily. "I've encountered enough Shadowhunters in my time to know the runes of marriage when I see them." He told Magnus. "Lilith married Eliza and her brother?"

Magnus shook his head. "Not in the literal sense. The runes are Lilith's fun little way of making sure Eliza will remain loyal to Jonathan."

Declan's faced twisted. "And the _parabatai_ rune on her neck? It's new. Is that also a gift from her mother or brother?"

Woefully, Magnus said it was not. "None of these can be forced on a person. They have to choose it." He looked back at her. "Eliza, tell me the price you're paying for staying with Jonathan."

A wave of warmth ran through her. She could feel the magic pulling something from her. "I'm not." She gasped. "I want to. I _want_ to stay with him. I know it's wrong, I know he's a bad person. I just…I can't leave. I don't know how."

Magnus' face softened. "Oh, little dove. He has clawed himself so deep into your heart and soul." He walked around her, bright eyes scanning over her. "I see the darkness in you. You're drowning in, in his influence. I can help you. The Silent Brothers can strip the runes and free you from Jonathan's influence."

"I can't." She wanted to. For the first time in weeks, she wanted to stray from Jonathan, to go home. "I can't leave."

"If this is about Jace," Declan said, "we can come back for him. We can rescue him too." He assured. "Come with us, Eliza. You need help."

She felt her heart speed up, her stomach tighten. Her nose burned, her eyes watered with hot tears. "Please let me go." She begged. Her voice was stringent, holding back a cry. "I have to go back. He can't hurt Jace and he won't hurt me. But he could hurt someone else." Jonathan couldn't harm Jace so long as they were bound. He wouldn't hurt her. At this point, she didn't think he would know how. Other than hurting someone she cared for. "Magnus," she pleaded, "you have to let me go. I'll be okay, I promise."

He didn't seem to believe her. "Little dove…"

"Magnus, _please_."

He drew his arms back. The magic receded and the warmth washed over her one last time as the blue mist disappeared into the air. Slowly, she could feel it creeping back into her, the bitter cold that had settled itself in her since the moment she left that rooftop garden with Jonathan and Jace. It was a crueler cold than anything the weather could present. It was a cold that pierced her soul, burrowed down deep in her.

"I can't just leave you with him, Eliza. We have to do something." Magnus walked over to her, taking her into his arms.

She hugged him back, "You have to. I'll be okay, I promise." She stepped back from him. "To be safe, to be sure, you need to put a block on my mind. I can't remember this conversation, I can't remember seeing the two of you."

Declan pushed himself from the wall. He held his hands behind his back. "I believe I have a solution." He explained his idea to them. There was a malicious glint in his light brown eyes. "How do you say it? Killing two birds with one stone?"

She grinned. "I like the way you think, Kensley." She looked over at Magnus. "Do it now, before it comes back. I can feel it, the darkness, it's coming back."

He put his hands on the sides of her head. "Close your eyes."

"I know the drill," she reminded as her eyes shut. Once again, she could feel his magic seeping into her head. It felt more powerful than it had the last time, all those months ago.

"Here is what happened…."

* * *

She was cold. That was what she first noticed when she woke up. She was cold and her arm and shoulder hurt.

The room she was in was dimly lit, enough for her to realize she had no idea where she was. It wasn't the room she shared with Jace in the apartment. These floors were made of a dark polished wood and the walls covered in an antique fashion wallpaper. Where the hell was she?

The door to the room flew open. Light flooded in from the hall. Jace was standing there, a seraph blade in each of his hands. She could see the darkness of blood staining his clothes and skin.

"Liz, thank the Angel." He slid both the blades back into his belt before running to her. He helped her up from the bed and pulled her to him. "I thought…"

She pulled back, searching his face. "You thought what?"

He shook his head, refusing to say the words. "Are you okay? What happened?" He questioned. "We got worried when you didn't come back after a couple hours. And then we received a fire-message that they were keeping you here."

She frowned. Her memory was fuzzy, everything tinged with blurs. "I don't…I don't know." She murmured. She looked down at her arm. There was a bite mark on her left wrist, thin trails of blood crusted down her arm. "Oh, God."

Jace's face darkened as she reached up, feeling on the bend where her neck and shoulder met. Her stomach tightened as she felt dried blood.

She remembered the vampire- Edward Delancey- propositioning her in the upstairs hall, sneaking her away from prying eyes. Sinking his teeth into her skin. He hadn't become ill at the taste of her blood, instead relishing in the new taste.

"Lizzie, did he-?"

"No." She said quickly, but she really had no idea what had happened. All she knew was that she put up a fight and he had knocked her out. "I don't think anything happened." She looked around the room. "Where is Jonathan?"

"Downstairs, finishing off the nest. He's looking for Delancey." Jace let her go. He took her hand in his. He led her from the bedroom and down the stairs.

The home was littered with bodies. Dead vampires everywhere they went. Blood had pooled on the floor, it was smeared on the walls.

They found Jonathan in the dining room. He, like Jace, was covered in blood. He had Edward Delancey tied to a chair. She could smell something burning, it smelled like pig fat put she had a feeling that wasn't what it was.

"Are you all right?" Jonathan asked her.

She nodded. "I've been through worse." After all, she had died.

His eyes narrowed as he took in the blood on her arm and neck. "He bit you." He observed icily. He glared down at Delancey. "You attacked my sister, you fanged bastard. You could have killed her."

"I didn't touch her." Delancey growled at him. He whirled his gaze onto Eliza. "Tell him. Tell him I didn't attack you."

"I won't lie for you."

He hissed, baring his teeth. "You lying little bitch!" He struggled against the restraints, shouting out wordlessly as the ropes seared into his skin.

Holy water, she realized. Jonathan had doused the ropes in holy water.

"Was this your little plan, Shadowhunter?" He growled at her. "You snuck into my home and allowed your little friends to come in and slaughter my people."

"Do _not_ talk to my sister!" Jonathan shouted at him. "You mutilated her, you do not get to speak to her!" He smacked Delancey. The force teetered the chair, almost causing it to knock over.

Delancey repeated that he had done no such thing. "I promise you that I didn't so much as taste her blood. But I promise you that if I had, I would have savored every drop. I would have treated her just as I treat all my blood whores." He sneered. "After all, if you look the part-."

Jace moved faster than light. His seraph blade was out and then, in a quick and fluid movement, Edward Delancey's head was on the floor.

His body was slumped over in the chair.

Jace turned, an emotionless look on his face. Blood speckled his face. His golden eyes were dark. "Come on." He put the seraph blade back on his belt, reaching out to grab Eliza's hand. "Let's get you home."

* * *

Jace didn't say a word the entire way to the apartment. Maybe it was better that he remained silent. Jace was a ferocious fighter when he was in battle. He had mercilessly killed hundreds of demons, no thought given. The only person he had ever killed was Jonathan. She had tried to save him from that stain.

Without hesitation, he had decapitated Edward Delancey.

Perhaps Jonathan wasn't just having an effect on her.

The hot water ran over her face. She had scrubbed and scrubbed her skin until it was raw, washing away any remnants of her own blood.

The shower door slid open and she glanced back. Jace stepped into the shower. They hadn't been back for long and he hadn't yet rid himself of all the vampire blood. She turned, loofa in hand.

"Come here." She motioned. He did. He let the water run down his face. The blood streaked, blurring and spreading. "You didn't have to kill him. I think slaughtering his entire clan was enough."

He made a face as she wiped the blood from his cheeks. "He hurt you."

She frowned at him. "You can't kill everyone that hurts me, Jace." She rinsed out the loofa. The water ran pink with blood. "I never wanted you to have to kill anyone. I didn't want you to have that stain on your soul."

He closed his eyes as she ran the loofa over his shoulders. "I'd do anything to protect you. Kill for you. Die for you."

She dropped the loofa, stepping back against the shower wall. "I never asked you to do any of that for me."

"You never had to."

* * *

 _We need to talk. Luke's. Sunrise._

The fire-message said only that.

It was against all her better judgements to actually show up. And yet, she did it anyway. A simple lie to the boys about restocking the kitchen. Neither of them had questioned her. Jonathan hadn't thought twice about handing over his ring when she mentioned wanting to pick up some wine from a nice vineyard in Italy she had heard of.

Trust made people weak. Especially men.

The sun was just beginning to rise, the sky painted with soft pinks and brilliant oranges. Her sister was sitting on the steps of Luke's house, her eyes closed.

Clary's eyes opened and then they were looking at one another. "You actually came."

Eliza's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "Don't sound so surprised, baby sister. You asked, therefore you received."

Clary stood up and brushed off the back of her jeans. "Why did you come?" Clary asked. "I know I asked you to, but I didn't think you'd actually do it."

Eliza leaned against the porch railing. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked out at the rising sun. "You know why I came, Clarissa." Her eyes slid over to her sister. Clary was watched her with a guarded expression. "To check on you, make sure you're all right. And Luke…"

"He's going to live." Clary told her.

Eliza nodded, a strange sense of relief flooding over her. "Good. That's good." She murmured. "He should have never been hurt. I'm sorry for that."

Clary's eyes narrowed. "Do you seriously mean that?"

"God, Clarissa, give me a break." Eliza scoffed. "I'm not a monster. I still care about the people I've always cared about. Things are just…different now."

"You got that right." Clary muttered. "We heard about a raid on a vampire nest in London. No survivors. Was that you guys?" Quietly, Eliza said yes. She didn't really want to remember the vampires. "You guys killed dozens of innocent vampires? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Eliza's eyes narrowed. Her nostrils flared out. "Innocent?" She growled. "Those vampires were anything but, Clarissa. They practically kidnapped me and their disgusting leader attacked me! They used girls like blood slaves and the world is better off now that they're dead."

Clary's mouth fell open. "I can't believe you guys eliminated an entire group of vampires. They may have violated the Accords, but they at least deserved a trial from the Clave."

Eliza pushed off the porch. "Okay, here's the real deal, little sis." She let her arms fall and walked over to Clary. "I'm not just here to make sure things at home are all fine and dandy. I came back for _you_."

Clary took a step up on the porch. "To check on me."

Eliza shook her head. "To bring you with me."

"Because Jonathan wants me for something, right?"

She said no tightly. "Contrary to popular beliefs, I am a separate person outside of my brother. I operate outside of his realm." She stepped back from Clary. "There are three people I care about more than anything. Jace, Jonathan, and you. I would like to have all three with me." Clary said she wasn't sure it was a good idea. She drew forward, grabbing Clary's hands. "Clary, I _promise_ you that nothing bad is going to happen to you. You won't have to do anything that you don't have to. Come with me. It's a much better life on the other side."

Clary looked past her, and Eliza glanced back, half-expecting to see Luke and Jocelyn rushing towards them. Maybe even Maryse. Maybe the Conclave. But no one was there. Eliza looked back at Clary.

"What are you so worried about, Clary?" She asked.

"Mom." Clary answered. "She's been so upset about you being gone and if I go-."

Eliza laughed quietly, shaking her head. "Are you scared of our mother?" Clary shrugged. "Jocelyn hid an entire world from you for sixteen years. She lied to you about who you were. She took away your memories. She hid your family from you. For once in your life, think of yourself, Clarissa."

Eliza had become extremely close to Clary. They were standing side by side, Eliza's arm around Clary's shoulders. She had turned Clary so that they were looking out towards the river. "I don't know, Liz…"

Eliza squeezed Clary's shoulders. "Come on, Clary, think of how amazing it would be. We can go anywhere. Prague, Moscow, Oslo, anywhere you want. You could see the world, really experience life. Don't you want that?"

Clary looked over at her. "Maybe…It sounds nice."

She nodded. "But you need to know, if you come, there's no going back. Not for a while, at least. You won't see Simon or Mom or Luke for a long time."

Clary stepped away from her. For a fleeting second, Eliza was scared Clary was going to say no. Worse, she was afraid Clary had some secret system for calling in reinforcements.

"Okay. I want to go."

Eliza grinned. "Good." She took Clary's arm. "I am so glad you see things my way, Clarissa. You won't regret this."

She took out her stele. Clary resisted, trying to pull away. Eliza's grip on her was like iron. The tip of her stele pressed against Clary's skin. She drew a familiar rune she had seen not so long ago.

"What is that?" Clary asked.

"Shh." She finished the rune. After just a second, Clary swayed, her eyes fluttering closed. She fell forward and Eliza caught her. Clary's head fell against her shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll be safe with me." She put her arms around Clary and twisted Jonathan's ring around her finger.

Luke's house faded behind them, everything around her blurring into nothing.

* * *

Jonathan was less than pleased with her. In fact, she could almost certainly say he was cross. She had never been one to make callous or rash decisions. Everything for her had to have been thought out to the tiniest and most minute details. Betraying her father, making the others trust her. Bringing Clary to the apartment had not, as Jonathan had so kindly phrased it, been a colossal and stupid mistake. Rather, it was the exact opposite. She just had to get him to see things her way.

She knocked lightly on his door, pushing it open before a response could be delivered. He was sitting at the desk, hunched over and trying to decipher something from a book. The book itself looked like if one where to touch it too harshly, it would fall apart.

"Jonathan." She announced herself. He didn't look up. She sighed. "I know you're upset, but we should talk about this."

He closed the book carefully and looked over at her. Oh, yes, he was upset. "The time to talk would have been before you decided to risk everything by bringing her here. It is too late now."

"You yourself said it was better to ask forgiveness than permission." She reminded him. Quietly, she closed the door. "I know the risk that I was taking, but I believe it will all be worth it."

He stood up. "How so?" He asked her. "A number of things could have happened. She could have ambushed you, attacked you, the Clave could have killed you. Eliza, it was incredibly dangerous of you to seek her out. You put yourself and our mission at risk."

Always the mission. That, no doubt, had been a gift from their father. They both were so focused on their missions that the rest of the world was blocked by blinders. Nothing else mattered, nothing else was important.

"You act as if I didn't think these things through, Jonathan. I'm much smarter than you or father ever gave me credit for. I knew meeting Clary was going to be dangerous, but I also knew how rewarding it would be if things went in our favor." He asked what she meant by that. "I think that you have forgotten that Father didn't just experiment on us. Jace and Clary both have Ithuriel's blood. Our sister has the ability to draw runes never before seen by Shadowhunters. We can _use_ that to our advantage."

His eyes sparked with interest. "What makes you so sure that Clarissa will be forthcoming with her ability?"

Eliza smiled. It was a smile that was not so unlike Jonathan's. Cunning and artificial. "We're her family, big brother. If we show her loyalty and love, she will do the same." He said that Clarissa hated him. She would never help if it meant helping him. "Show her you've had a change of heart then. Fake it if you have to. I don't care what you do, as long as it results in our success."

Jonathan smiled at her. "I like the way you think, little sister. And here I thought you brought her because you missed her."

"You were right to think so. It just so happened that there was an advantage to my sentimentality." She told him. "Now, apologize for doubting me."

* * *

They were walking past Jonathan's room when she saw it through the crack in the door. Jonathan. Hugging Clary.

She halted. Jace jerked back, never letting go of her hand. "What is it?" He asked.

"Clary's awake."

She let go of his hand and pushed open Jonathan's door. Jonathan had since let her go and the top of her hair was mussed.

"You're up. I thought you'd sleep forever." Eliza smiled at her. Jace was standing beside her, she could feel the heat radiating from his body. "Jonathan, did I see you _hugging_ our sister?"

He shrugged. "Like you said, she's our sister."

She rolled her eyes. "We just came back from the market, are you hungry?" Jace asked her. "Mostly breads and cheeses."

Eliza eyed her shirt. It wasn't what Clary had been wearing when she brought her to the apartment.

"I could eat." Clary said numbly.

Several minutes later, the four of them were seated at the dining table. Clary was picking around with the foods, sampling cheeses and meats. Jonathan had poured her a glass of wine, which she had barely touched. "You own this place?" Clary asked Jonathan.

Once again, he shrugged. "I suppose I do now, upon our father's demise. It's interdimensional. It moves between the worlds." She asked where the front door was. "It's around here somewhere. Perhaps when I trust you, I will show it to you."

Eliza made a noise. "Jonathan, we talked about this." She said tightly.

He gave a relenting look and turned to Clary. "My apologies. If Eliza trusts you, then so do I." He eyed Clary carefully. "I see you found our mother's clothes." She asked what he meant. "Most of the things in the apartment were for our mother. The modernized appliances, the clothes. Father bought it all for her, should she have chosen to return with him."

Eliza grimaced. "We can go out tomorrow and buy you some new things if you want." She offered. Clary shook her head, saying it was fine. She asked what they did with their time besides traveling.

"Not much else, really." Jace said.

Jonathan was working his third glass of wine. Clary said they couldn't do that forever. "And why is that?" He asked her.

"For starters, you're all wanted by the Clave. I don't think you can spend the rest of your lives on the run from them."

Jonathan stared back at Eliza. _I told you so,_ his look said. Slowly, she shook her head once. "Clarissa, if you have a question, you should ask it." Jonathan told her. "It's not polite to beat around the bush."

"Jonathan, she came here of her own accord." Eliza reminded him. "She wanted to be here. I think that says enough for her loyalty. Let her in the loop."

"She didn't come here for us, Liz. She came here for you." Jace told her. "You're the only reason she's here. Because you're her sister."

"I trust her." Clary said. "With my life."

"A dangerous thing for you to say." Jonathan mused. "Many have trusted my dear, sweet sister. And many have lost their lives for it."

Under the table, Eliza kicked him. Both he and Jace inhaled sharply.

"Look," Clary started, leaning forward into the table, "I know you don't trust me. I don't trust you either." She told Jonathan. His eyebrows spiked. "But Liz does. And Jace does too. So, if they trust you, I can try to. Besides, you're my brother, which counts somewhere I think."

Jonathan seemed mildly impressed with her. He nodded and took another drink of his wine. "All right. Spend some time with us and then you can know our plan." Jace asked how long. "One week. Just seven days. And really, how long is the span of a week?"

Jace frowned. "You were dead two weeks ago."

Jonathan's eyes brightened. "Two weeks is a ridiculous amount of time to make someone wait." Clary said she would wait for however long it took for him to trust her. "One week, little sister." Jonathan assured her. "And for the duration of that week, you are not to leave the apartment. You cannot communicate with anyone outside of the three of us." Those were his stipulations.

"She can leave so long as I'm with her." Eliza told Jonathan. "Right?"

Jonathan stared back at her, eyes dark, mouth a fine line. "I suppose."

Eliza reached over across the table and grabbed Clary's hand. "We'll have a girl's day. Shopping and lunch by the canal. The boys can stay in and do whatever they do while I'm gone. Play video games, I think." Her smile was bright, eyes dark just like her brother's.

* * *

The sun was setting over the canal, the sky painted a dusty bronze color that matched Jace's sweater. It brought out the gold of his eyes. The water was a deep blue, spots of orange reflected from the sun dotting the surface. There was a slight breeze.

A beautiful evening with a handsome boy.

She held the translation dictionary in her left hand, Jace's hand in her right. " _Intendevi?_ " She asked, the pronunciation butchered.

Jace looked at her, amusement lighting his eyes. Some of their languages coincided. Italian was not one of them. " _Intendevo cosa?_ " He replied smoothly. _Did I mean what?_

She glanced down at the book. She flipped through it, trying to find the words she was looking for. " _Quando hai detto che ero la cosa migliore che ti sia mai capitata."_

He stopped walking, pulling her back to him. "Why wouldn't I have meant it?" His eyebrows were furrowed down in concern.

She closed the book and put it in the pocket of her coat. "So many terrible things have happened to you because of me. I just…" She sighed and looked out over the water.

Jace pulled her close, cupping her face with his hands. "What are you trying to say?"

She put her hands over his wrists. "Was it all worth it, Jace?" She asked him. "Every horrible thing that's happened since May, has it all been worth loving me?" He opened his mouth, but she shushed him. "And don't just say yes. Think about it, really think about it. I mean, Jace, you _died_. Because of me. And now-." She stopped herself. Wherever she was going, she couldn't go there with him. Because of her, Jace had died. His resurrection meant he was tied to Jonathan. In her heart, she knew there was something wrong with that. It was different with her, it was like Lilith said. She and Jonathan had always been bound to one another. Jace had never been destined for Jonathan the way she was.

She watched him think on it. His eyes were hooded, he stared at her through dark lashes. "Yes." He finally said. "It was worth it. Every single second of every single day."

"You're sure?"

"Lizzie, how could I not be? I wish you wouldn't second-guess my love for you. I love you." He leaned forward, kissing her left cheek. "I've always loved you." He kissed her right cheek. "I will always love you." His lips brushed against hers. He pulled back. "Now, can we continue our date?"

* * *

It was cooler out than it had been during the day. The breeze had picked up a considerable amount. The close vicinity of the canal made it even cooler.

She pulled Jace's shirt closer, hugging her arms around her body.

"You're up late."

Clary was standing beside her, wearing a pair of silk pajamas that had no doubt been intended for their mother. "So are you." She replied. Clary made a noise that sounded like a laugh. "I'm sorry I brought you here." She looked over at Clary. "Maybe you wanted to come, but I don't think you were ready. Am I right?"

Clary nodded. "I had reservations. I still do."

"Jonathan. And myself, I suspect?" Eliza smiled. "I won't object to your suspicions. I have no doubts they are founded accurately." She looked out at the canal. In the water she could see the reflection of the half-moon. "You've never been given a reason to trust Jonathan. I wouldn't trust him if I were you. And me, well, I made you trust me and now look what I've turned into."

"Is this who you want to be, Liz?" Clary asked her. "Do you want to be Jonathan's pawn, his sister, always tied to him? You'll always be Eliza Morgenstern, but it's up to you on who she really is."

Eliza stepped back from the edge of the balcony. "You see, I don't think I ever really had a choice on who I would be. My name is Eliza Morgenstern, but I don't know who she's supposed to be. I've only ever been Valentine Morgenstern's daughter and Jonathan Morgenstern's sister. I don't know how to be anything else."

The water lapped against the stone below them. In the dim light, she could see the bright glitter of tails just under the water surface. Mermaids with long hair that blended into the water and glimmering teeth, sharp as needles.

"Who do you _want_ to be?" Clary asked. "If you could start over, wipe the slate clean, what kind of person would you want to be?"

She let go of herself.

She didn't want to be a liar, a trickster, a thief. She didn't want to be Valentine's daughter or Jonathan's sister. She didn't want to have the blood of Lilith. She didn't want any special abilities.

She wanted to be Clary's sister and Jocelyn's daughter. Friend of the Lightwoods and Simon Lewis. Magnus Bane's roommate. Friend to all Downworlders and Shadowhunters. Even mundanes.

She wanted to be Jace Herondale's. Whatever that meant. His girlfriend. His wife. His forever.

"I don't know." She murmured. "But it isn't who I am now, that's for certain."

* * *

Her brother was _busy_. Busy in the way only a seventeen year-old boy with a little too much energy could be busy. She could hear the giggles coming from his room.

"Disgusting." She muttered, running her fingers through Jace's hair. She and Clary were on the couch. Jace was sitting in the floor in front of her, leaned back so she could play with his hair as he occupied himself with the war-themed video game.

"And now you know exactly how he feels." Jace didn't bother to tear his eyes away from the screen. She yanked on a curl. "Ow! Babe, you know I only like that when-."  
"Ew, shut up. Shut up." Clary scrambled. "I do _not_ want to know about my sister's sex life!"

"It comes with the gig, unfortunately." Jonathan had re-entered the room. His shirt was unbuttoned, the belt of his jeans loosened. His pale hair mussed. "Just be glad they've finally calmed down. For the first few weeks they were-."

"Jonathan." Eliza said tersely. "Shut. Up."

His eyes narrowed. "I was only making conversation with our dear sister."

"Go back to your vampire skank."

He clearly was not used to being addressed in such a manner by her. His mouth pursed in deliberation, he took his leave.

Jace looked up at her. "What's wrong with you?"

She shook her head. She couldn't tell _him_ that with each passing day, she felt less and less connected to her brother. "I need to pee." She maneuvered around him and raced to the bedroom that they shared. She ran into the bathroom and locked the door.

Pulling up her shirt, she examined the blazing white rune. It no longer seemed to glow. Neither, she realized, did the one on her hand.

Eliza swallowed. Whatever this was, it wasn't good. Jonathan was the entire reason she was there. If he found out that her end of the bond was failing…

Well, she just couldn't let that happen.

* * *

Jace was asleep. He slept so much lately. And like the dead. In the past, so much as the drop of a pin had been enough to wake him. Now, the world could have been ending and she was certain Jace would sleep through it.

Weeks of sleep depravity had taken an unholy (literally) toll on him.

It was still warm out, for it being three in the morning. It was warm and the world was still. Quiet. The water was as still as it could be, barely audible except for the slosh against the stone. There was no hustle and bustle on the cobblestone streets. Inside the apartment, everything was quiet. Jonathan was asleep, finally. Unlike his counterpart, he hardly slept. Clary was safe in her room. Safe, but not really. She would never be safe around Jonathan.

And Jace. Jace was safe because he was the reason that Jonathan _was_. Without Jace, there was no Jonathan. Jace could not be harmed because then Jonathan would be. He had to have him.

Then, there was herself. Caught in the middle. Of everything. Protect Clary. Protect Jace. Love Jace. Love Jonathan.

 _What?_

 _No._

There would be no more loving Jonathan.

It had not come slowly. It had not crept upon her like the dark of the night. It was sudden, being hit by a wave. Realization washed over her like water.

She _hated_ him.

The love between them was false. Created by a rune of darkness, of evil. Of Hell. There was no true feeling between them except for hatred. He had tried to kill her. She had tried to kill him. He was a murderer, a monster. Evil. They may have shared the same blood, the same womb, but they were not the same.

It all came back to her. The vampire nest. Edward had never bitten her. Declan had saved her and taken her to Magnus. That, that was where it began. The recession of Lilith's creation.

 _Magnus._

It was a start. If anyone could help, it was him.

 _Eliza?_

She let out a sigh of relief.

 _I need your help._

 _I was wondering when you would call._

He sounded….amused.

 _Now is not the time for jokes. I need you to come get me. ASAP._

 _Is…is this a trap, little dove? I know how fond you are of your…brother._

 _No, it isn't a trap. I remember what happened. The vampire nest. You and Declan. Our conversation. I need you to get me out of here._

 _Why?_

 _Because Lilith's hold on me is gone. Which means it's faded on Jonathan as well. If I don't leave here before he's awake, I'm as good as dead. And then we'll never stop him._

 _Fair enough. Where shall I pick you up?_

She sent him an address, the place vivid in her mind. He said he'd get her in two hours. Plenty of time for her to prepare.

"Lizzie?"

She spun around, hugging the thin robe closer to her body. "Hey you." She tried to smile. "Did I wake you?"

He shook his head. He was bare, save for his boxers. "Bad dream." He mumbled. "You were gone." It was a half-explanation, but it tugged at her heart. Soon, she really would be gone.

"I'm right here." She assured, letting her arms fall to her side.

He crossed the balcony to her, taking her in his arms. "Come back to bed." His hand pushed down the robe, leaving her shoulder bare. Soft, warm kisses were peppered from her shoulder to her neck. She closed her eyes.

Damn him.

Not happily, she pulled back from him. "In a minute. Why don't you go on?"

It was rare to refuse him. How could she? When he looked the way he did, kissed the way he did, _felt_ -.

She stopped herself. If she went down that road, she'd never leave.

His eyes searched her, looking for some sign of discontent, of unhappiness. She knew what was going through his mind: had he done something wrong?

On the contrary. It was _her_ who had done something wrong. It was always her.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a soft voice.

Not really seeing any other option, she leaned forward and kissed him. "I am now." She murmured against his lips. And she led him back to bed.

* * *

He was asleep. An hour later and he was back to sleep.

Jace had been out for twenty minutes. In a deep enough sleep that she could work. And by work, this meant she was hastily putting together a bag. Throwing knives and seraph blades were tossed into a fine knapsack made of black leather.

She didn't need anything else. She had clothes at the Institute and at Magnus'. Oh, her sword. That was needed.

Something winked at her from the nightstand on her side of the bed. The Morgenstern family ring.

She thought about what Clary had asked her. _Who do you want to be?_

Biting down on her lip, she grabbed the ring. Twirling it between her fingers, Eliza knew very well what had to be done.

She put the ring back on the nightstand. She grabbed the pen and a piece of paper from the small desk in the corner of the room.

 _This isn't who I want to be. I'm sorry. -Lizzie_

She folded the paper up and scrawled his name on it. She slipped it under the ring.

Tears stung her eyes as she looked down at him. Peaceful, like she hadn't seen him in so long. Their lives- his life was so royally fucked up. All because of her. Because she hadn't died in that Malachi Configuration when she was twelve. Because Jonathan didn't finish the job and kill her at fourteen. Because she had been sent to New York to find the Mortal Cup and she had failed.

She had been right all along. She had ruined Jace's life.

If only she had been the perfect little monster like her brother.

She leaned over and gently, just barely, brushed her lips against his. "I'm sorry." She murmured, pulling back. "I'll save you. I swear on the Angel that I'll save you."

And like a ghost, she was gone.


	41. Chapter 41

She didn't feel well. Quite the contrary, honestly. She felt _awful_. It came down to a small multitude of reasonings. She had left Jace behind. That in itself was enough to make her sick. And then there was Clary. She had left her little sister, the girl she had sworn to protect, in the claws of the wolf.

 _Not for long_ , she told herself. She was going to make everything right. No matter what.

They'd only been at the apartment for a short while, just long enough for her to relish in her own shower (though she missed the water pressure and the company of the one in the interdimensional apartment) and change clothes. Barely time to settle herself.

The only good thing was that Chairman Meow had not left her alone since her return. He had been under her feet since her arrival. Where she went, the kitten followed.

She could only hope everyone else was as happy to see her.

"I missed you." She rubbed the place between his ears. "Even if you're the only one who missed me."

"I missed you, little dove." Magnus rapped on the doorframe to her room. He had changed since their arrival, swapping his dark "recon" outfit for something more suited to him. A flowing white shirt paired under a glittered blue vest, black leather pants, and steel toe boots. "They're all here."

She took a shaky breath, preparing herself for the storm to come. "Stay in here." She whispered to Chairman Meow. Magnus extended his hand and she took it. He led her into the living room.

"How-?"

"What-?"

" _Eliza_?"

It was the largest amount of people she had seen in his home without there being a party. Luke and her mother, although Luke looked as if he needed to be home in bed. Both Alec and Isabelle were there, along with Simon. Declan was residing in the furthest corner, hands held behind his back. Even Maryse was in attendance.

"Thank God!" Isabelle was the only one who seemed genuinely happy to see her. She launched from her position on the sofa and engulfed Eliza in a squeezing hug. "I'm so happy to see you!"

Eliza wasn't sure how to react. She didn't feel deserving of Izzy's excited, warm welcome. She pulled away from her, stepping back several steps.

"What are you doing here?" Jocelyn asked sharply. "Where's Clary?"

 _You aren't the daughter she wanted back. As far as she's concerned, you're the same as Jonathan now._

She shoved that thought down as far as it would go. "I don't know." She said truthfully. "We were in Italy when-."

"When _what,_ Eliza?"

She stepped back again, praying the world would open up and swallow her so she didn't have to see the look on her mother's face. Instead, she hit the solid form of Magnus.

He put his hands on her shoulders. "It's all right, little dove. You're safe." He whispered. "She's not well at the moment." He told Jocelyn. "Give her a moment."

Jocelyn's eye twitched. "I need to know that my daughter is safe, Magnus." She snarled at him. When she settled back on her daughter, Eliza saw for the first time the unholy rage of a mother. "Where is Clary, Eliza? What have you done to her?"

That was _enough_. Eliza wretched away from Magnus. She had initially been nervous to face everyone again after disappearing for weeks. After Jonathan had nearly killed Luke. After she had stolen Clary. And now, she was only angry. " _I_ didn't do anything to her." She hissed. "She's fine. Healthy, unharmed. Safe, if that's what you want to know."

Jocelyn stared back with wide green eyes. The same eyes she had passed on to both her daughters. As far as she was concerned, though, she only had one daughter. Clary. The other belonged to Valentine.

At least, that was how Eliza imagined she felt.

" _Safe_? You dragged her off in the middle of the night! You left her with Jonathan!"

Now, it was Luke holding Jocelyn back. Jocelyn had tried to hurt Jonathan. Who was to say she wouldn't do the same to Eliza?

Eliza had no weapons on her. Her wrists were bare of throwing knives. Her sword was in her bedroom. She had no seraph blades on her person. If Jocelyn decided to fight, all Eliza had for defense were her hands.

"For your information, your perfect little daughter asked _me_ to come for her. She wanted to be there. Do not blame that on me."

 _Breathe, little dove. You didn't come here to argue, remember?_

She nodded, glancing back at him. After a deep breath, she locked eyes with her mother again. "I'm sorry. I didn't…I still don't have a very firm hold on the anger. I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help."

"And how would that be?" Maryse asked. She was standing behind Alec, who was sitting on the sofa next to Izzy. On Isabelle's other side was Simon. "You're wanted by the Clave."

"I know. And when this is over, you can arrest me. Throw me back in the prisons of the Silent City. Strip my Marks. Whatever. I don't care." She said.

"When what is over?" Alec asked her.

She looked over at him. "When we stop Jonathan."

Luke was the one to speak, surprising everyone, especially her. With Jocelyn's help, he stood up from the chair he had been sitting in. "You're bound to him. What makes you think we believe anything out of your mouth?"

A valid point. As far as they knew, she and Jonathan were still bound. She lifted her hand, showcasing what had once been the Wedded Union rune. Once, it had blazed bright and white. Now, it was dull, not even containing the silver sheen of faded Marks. It was sinking into the skin, on its way to disappearing.

"I'm not anymore." She said simply. She explained the events that had led to the unraveling of the rope that tied her to Jonathan. The truth of the vampire nest in London, Declan practically kidnapping her and taking her to Magnus. The memory alteration. And Jace. The blank, cold look he had worn as he killed Edward Delancey without hesitation. "Whatever magic Magnus used on me that night…I think it was a little stronger than intended. Ever since then, I felt the bond growing weaker. I found myself annoyed by Jonathan, repulsed. Just like old times." She told them. Alec cracked half a smile at her weak attempt for a joke. "And I knew that if I felt that way, so did he. I wasn't safe anymore. The bond had protected me. Without it…" She glanced back to her mother. "Jace will protect Clary. Even under his devotion to Jonathan, he won't let her be hurt. She really is safe."

"What's his plan?" Maryse questioned sharply. "What is your brother planning to do?" Truthfully, she said she didn't know. "How can you not know? You were with him for over six weeks."

"He never told us. He's secretive that way. There were Downworlders with information he needed but we never knew exactly what it was. He questioned them on his own. It was just our job to get them back to him."

Maryse sighed in a disappointed fashion. "So, essentially, you're useless to us? You don't know where they are, you don't know what Sebastian plans to do. What _do_ you know?"

Eliza looked her dead in the eye. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I know how to kill my brother."

Immediately, she faced protest. Alec, Izzy and Maryse. Even Luke. Killing Jonathan meant killing Jace.

"You can't hurt him until they're separated." Alec told her. "You know that. You wouldn't…?"

She shook her head. She wouldn't kill Jace. She didn't think she could. "Of course not. That's why I hope you guys are close to figuring that out. Without knowing what he's planning, our best shot is to separate them and kill Jonathan."

It was the uncertain looks she received that gave her the answer she didn't want. They weren't close at all.

* * *

There was a knock on her bedroom door. Laying down the hairbrush on the vanity, she allowed entrance to her visitor.

Through the mirror, she watched her mother walk in and shut the door quietly. "Declan's taking Luke home. He still tires easily. Maryse left as well. And I think Alec, Magnus, Simon, and Isabelle are all out for dinner."

Which left…the two of them. Alone. And the cat, of course.

"I am sorry." Eliza turned around. Jocelyn sat on her bed. The kitten took a moment to sniff her before retreating back to the pillows. "For Luke. I really didn't mean for him, or anyone, to get hurt. Jonathan is…you know." Even now, after everything, monster seemed too trivial a word for him.

"I do." She nodded. "And I know that you aren't him. And you aren't your father. But they're a part of you, Eliza. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

She said yes. They were the worst part of her. The part she had pushed down her entire life. They were the demon blood, the uncontrollable anger, the urge to kill, the way her heart hammered in her head when she hurt something, someone. "I fought it for so long. For years. That darkness, the demon blood, it got so tiring, keeping it at bay. I spent my entire life trying to be _good_ , to separate myself from Jonathan. And I did it. Albeit, I didn't succeed in keeping the Mortal Instruments from Father or even purging the planet of him or Jonathan. But I _tried_." Her voice broke off. She closed her eyes. "When it started, the nightmares, I felt it creeping back in. It's cold, the depth of the ocean swallowing you up. Jace and I were fighting and that wasn't making it easier. It was adding fuel to Lilith's fire. And when…when Jonathan came back, the runes that Lilith put on me were activated. Suddenly, I didn't care about being good anymore. I only cared about what felt good. And for me, that was Jace. It was being with him and Jonathan. And it was killing. I know everything I did, I remember it. I regret all of it."

Valentine and Jonathan may have been the worst part of her, but Jocelyn was the reason for the better part, the stronger part. She had her mother's resilience, her sense of self-preservation. Jocelyn was the beginning of her humanity. She was, Eliza saw, the reason that she and Jonathan were different. She had given Eliza the chance that she hadn't given Jonathan.

Her mother stared back at her, watching with pensive eyes. This, she found, was the difference between Valentine and Jocelyn. Valentine had never seen her, not even in the end. She remained invisible between his two boys. Even among Clary.

Jocelyn saw her. When she looked at her, she _saw_. She was a child, not an experiment gone wrong. Not a failed monster. A child. Her child.

"Did you go for Jonathan? Or for Jace?" Her mother asked quietly.

She didn't know. The runes clouded her judgment, making her want to be near Jonathan. But her heart, as always, was dominant. And it demanded Jace.

"Because," her mother began, "deep down, it was for Jace. Everything you do is for him."

She was right, Eliza knew that. Everyone knew that. Maybe it wasn't the best thing. But it was how it was.

"Is that bad?" She whispered. "I don't…I don't know if it's good or bad. All I know is that I love him."

Jocelyn licked over her lips. "You aren't going to like what I have to say, Eliza." Eliza told her to say it anyway. "Eliza, you love him too much. You let your love for him blind you. And all it's done is hurt the both of you."

She was right. Eliza did not like her words. At all. "You don't-."

"But I _do_ , Eliza." Jocelyn assured her. "I know all about that kind of love. It's a fire, it's hot and it's bright. But just like a fire, it burns you."

And then, she knew exactly what her mother meant. Who she was talking about. "You're talking about my father." She said softly. Jocelyn nodded sharply. "Jace isn't Valentine. He isn't his son. He's not Jonathan."

Even though they were connected, sealed by a bond made of Hell. Jace and Jonathan were not the same. They never would be. Why couldn't her mother see that? Everyone else did.

"Valentine raised him." Jocelyn reminded her. "He fights like him, speaks like him. For all I care, Jace is his son. And if you continue on this way, you aren't just going to hurt yourselves. You'll hurt the people around you."

At that, her mother got up. She moussed Eliza's hair before leaving the room. When the door shut, Eliza looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes drifted, landing on the picture of her and Jace she had taped to the mirror. It was on the bridge in the park. His arms were around her, her head tucked under his chin. Both smiling, real smiles. Behind them, the leaves had begun to fade from green to rustic oranges and deep reds.

She reached, letting her fingernail graze over his face. "I love you. And I'll see you soon."

* * *

 _You aren't just going to hurt yourselves. You'll hurt the people around you._

That was a ridiculous notion. She would never hurt him.

But, hadn't she? She had lied to him (too many times to count), made him trust her, led him to Valentine. She was the reason his little brother was dead. She was the reason Jace himself had died. And because of that, he was now tied to Jonathan.

She was the reason for all his current problems. Maybe the past ones too. Maybe if she would have been better, maybe if she'd been more like Jonathan, Valentine would have let Jace go a long time ago.

His life would have been better without her.

And hers, maybe hers would have been better too. If she'd just kept her focus solely on finding the Mortal Cup, if she wouldn't have gotten so lost in him…

"What are you thinking about?" Magnus situated himself on the sofa beside her. Chairman Meow jumped up, laying down between them. "Personally, I'm thinking about some seabass…"

Her eyes slid over to him. "Then go get it."

She was not in the mood to go out. She wanted to stay holed up in the apartment until they found a way to separate Jace and Jonathan. If she stayed in, she couldn't do anything wrong. Everyone was safer if she stayed inside.

"I'm busy, sweetness. I think I've got a lead on Lilith's twinning ritual. I'm having a client over. It would best if you were out."

So that was it, then. He wasn't being lazy, he was being shady. "Magnus, I don't-."

And then he was up. His sudden movement startled the kitten. Someone knocked on the door. She looked over her shoulder as Magnus threw open the door.

"Oh, look!" Magnus grinned back at her. "Declan is here. I'm sure he'd love to accompany you to Taki's."

She narrowed his eyes. His level of planning went unmatched. Sneaky warlock.

 _You've got to be freaking kidding, Magnus._

 _'Fraid not, little bird. There's no getting out of this. Besides, you need fresh air. You've been in this apartment for three days straight._

She had not left since arriving. Where was there to go? Everywhere was thick with the memory of Jace. She couldn't go to Luke's and face her mother or the reminder that she had left Clary behind. And she had the strongest sense that she was not currently welcome at the Institute.

She pushed off the sofa and met Declan at the door. Magnus handed her a jacket from the coat rack. "See you! Have fun!"

And he was pushing her out the door.

* * *

"He called you." She said as they walked. The air was cool. Even with the jacket, she wasn't entirely warm. It was too big to be hers. She inspected the arms of it.

 _Jace_.

One of the jackets he'd left behind while staying with Magnus.

He was _everywhere._

"Magnus is very good at reading people, Eliza. He knows you aren't well." He walked with his hands behind his back, occasionally glancing down at her.

She hugged the jacket tighter. "Of course I'm not well. I'm detoxing from my trip down the road to Hell. And I abandoned my sister, leaving her with a psychopath." She was not on the short-list for Sister of the Year.

"Not to mention you left Jace."

Hearing someone else say his name made her stop cold. She swallowed. "That too." She continued on.

Declan reached out, his hand wrapping around her wrist. "You can talk to me about him, Eliza. I'd like to think we're friends."

She looked at him. God, why couldn't she have just wanted him a little more? Declan Kensley was every girl's dream guy. Tall, dark, and handsome. He was caring, always doting. He liked her friends. He was protective. The only downside was that he was a vampire. And even that wasn't so bad.

"My mother thinks I love him too much. And…I think she's right."

"How do you mean?" He asked.

"I can't ever do what has to be done because of him. I couldn't get the Mortal Cup to the Clave because I was too worried about what Jace was going to think of me when he found out my entire life was a lie. I remolded my entire existence to protect him, instead of just focusing on my mission. I couldn't stop Valentine from getting the Angel's Sword because I was too busy lying to everyone to keep him safe. I couldn't even keep Max alive because I was too worried about Jonathan hurting Jace." She pulled herself to a stop.

Declan's face was downturned, his light brown eyes soft with…God, it was pity. She _hated_ that. Even more, she hated the fact that her cheeks were wet with tears. She cried too much.

"Eliza…" His voice was softer than the look he was giving her.

"Do you want to know the worst part?" She asked sharply. He didn't get the chance to answer before she was speaking again. "I _know_ that he would be better off without me. He would've been okay if I'd have just left well enough alone. But I didn't. He never would have been at Lake Lyn and he wouldn't be where he is now. I'm the worst part of him and he's the best part of me." She choked on a sob and swallowed it down. She would not cry like that. She would not break apart like that. "I'm so selfish when it comes to him. I talk about being good but if I really was, I would let him go. But I don't and I think that makes me just as bad as Jonathan."

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. He smelled good, honeyed tea and subtle cologne. "Love is never easy. And I think for you, it will never be. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve. You've made plenty of mistakes, just like anyone else. You made hard choices. They may not have always been the right choices, but you thought you were doing what was best."

Declan wasn't the person she needed to talk to. She needed her mother or Maryse. Someone who saw the error in her ways and rather than coddle her, they would agree with her. She needed someone to reprimand her, punish her for everything wrong she had ever done.

"Well, this is a sight to see." That voice…

She ripped away from Declan.

Jonathan. There was a mirthless look in his dark eyes, an amused smile playing his thin mouth.

"Stay away from her." Declan put his arm out, placing a wall between them. "Leave, if you know what's good for you."

Jonathan chuckled. "Good thing I'm here for someone else's good, not my own."

What did that mean?

"Liz…?"

Her entire body went rigid. She could hear her heart hammering away. Declan's arm fell, her barrier gone.

He didn't seem different. But his eyes, oh his eyes. They were narrowed, turned a dark honey color. His jaw was locked.

She diverted her attention back to Jonathan. If she looked at him, she'd break. "Where's Clary?" She demanded. She sounded an awful lot like her mother had.

"Don't worry." Jonathan waved. She's fine. She was fast asleep when we left, and she won't wake until we're back." Had he…drugged her? He turned his head to look at Jace. "I told you, didn't I? And you wouldn't listen to me. I _told_ you that she didn't care about you. She never has. You've always been a means to her end. A pawn. Just another string in her web of lies."

Jace didn't say anything. He was glaring at her.

"That isn't true, and you know it, Jonathan." The thing that separated her from Jonathan was that she was capable of love and he wasn't.

"No one ever knows what's true with you, little sister." His eyes flitted back to Jace. "Think about it. She's been lying to you from the moment you met. She lied about her name, her entire life. She lied about me. You think she didn't lie about her feelings? Jace, _you can't trust her_."

Jonathan was the dominant twin. Jace was submissive to him. Anything Jonathan said, Jace had to believe. He was going to make him hate her.

And maybe, maybe that was for the best. But it would not be based on a lie.

"The only truth she's ever given you is her name."

"Jace," she sighed, "don't listen to him. You know I love you. I've lied about a lot, but I have _never_ lied about that. Remember what we said in the cave that night? I made you a promise that I'd never lie about loving you. And I haven't." Her voice cracked. He was looking at her like he couldn't stand the sight of her. "I love you, Jace. More than I should, but I do. I always have."

"Look at her." Jonathan pulled Jace to his side. "She left you behind. And when you come back for her, you find her with him. Her bloodsucking ex-boyfriend."

Jace's lip curled back in a snarl.

"Eliza, get out of here." Declan whispered. "Go home." She tried to protest his demand but the look on his face was less than friendly. Something she had never seen before. His fangs were out, eyes hooded. " _Go_."

He shoved her out of the way as Jace lunged towards them. His body slammed into Declan's. Jonathan reached out and grabbed her by the arms. He jerked her back.

"Look at him." He whispered. "Look what you did to him. He's a monster."

Against any normal Nephilim, Declan would have had the upper hand. But Jace wasn't normal. He had Ithuriel's blood in his veins. He moved faster, he was quicker. When Declan reached for him, Jace was already out of the way. He grabbed him by the back of the neck and threw him on the ground.

"Stop!" She shouted. Jonathan held her tighter as she struggled.

"This is all your fault." He murmured.

Jace flipped Declan over so that they were looking at one another. Something slid out of the sleeve of his jacket.

A stake.

"NO!"

His fingers curled around the thicker end. He brought it up in a sharp, quick motion before plunging it into Declan's chest.

She screamed out. Declan went limp.

Time seemed to slow.

Jonathan let her go. Jace looked back at her, blood on his face. In that moment, he looked so like Jonathan. "Why did you do this to me?" He was talking to her. Not Jonathan.

Rage seized her. She couldn't be sad. If she grieved right then, Jonathan would win. She whirled around. "You bastard!" She swung, her fist slamming into his jaw.

He stumbled back and she lunged at him, knocking him to the ground. He reached, grabbing her by the throat and flipping her on her back. "You think you can beat me?" He shouted. "You'll never beat me."

She ripped his hand away, kicking him in the gut. "Watch me."

He stood up. As his leg extended to kick her in the ribs, she grabbed his foot and dragged him down. His head hit the pavement with a _thud_. She got to her feet. Where the hell was a weapon when she needed one? She couldn't beat him with just her hands.

She felt around in the pockets of Jace's jacket. Nothing. It had to be the one jacket that he did- Wait. The inside left breast pocket.

 _There it was_.

A dagger.

Jonathan's hand grabbed her shoulder. He yanked her back into the wall of an old building. "Walking away, little sister?" He snarled. "Coward. You're weak! You've never been able to do what needs to be done. That's what's wrong with you; that's why you were the failure." His fist connected with her nose. The bone cracked with a sickening crunch.

Pain shot through her face. Her eyes water. Jonathan became a blur.

"Your morality disgusts me. _You_ disgust me."

She blinked away the tears. "The moment Jace is separated from you, you're as good as dead. That's a promise."

He laughed, shaking his head. "If you were a true Shadowhunter, you'd kill me anyway." He told her. He punched her again, the hard of his knuckles bruising into the soft of her stomach. "But no. You let your love for him control every part of you. It sickens me."

He reeled back to hit her again. She wrapped her hand around his fist and forced it down. "It's what makes me human." She grabbed his throat, squeezing as hard as she could. He gasped out. "But you don't know the first thing about humanity."

His hands wrapped around her wrist. The sharp edges of his fingernails dug into her skin. "I know you have to choose which one to save." His voice rasped. "Clarissa or Jace."

Choose? There was no choice. There could be no choice. It had to be both of them. "I get them both." She gripped harder.

Jonathan smiled, blood dripping from the corner of his lip. "Don't be greedy, little sister." He flung her to the side. Her feet went out from under her. Her head hit the ground.

Black tinged the edge of her vision. She couldn't breathe.

Jonathan knelt down beside her. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before he began to choke her. "Why don't we make a deal? I'll give you your little boy toy and I get to keep Clarissa. He's not very useful without you there to motivate him, if I'm being honest. And Clarissa, well…she's special, isn't she? And since she and I are the last _true_ Morgensterns, it's up to us to reignite the family tree."

God, he was disgusting.

"She's not a Morgenstern." Eliza told him, words hoarse. "I am."

He clicked his tongue. "No, you aren't. Morgensterns are brave. They face the fire, but you've always ran away from it. You're a coward. You're weak. You're-."

His sentence cut off. She hadn't even noticed that she had pulled the dagger from inside the jacket. But there it was. Shoved hilt deep into his abdomen.

His blood was warm as it fell onto her hand.

"Fuck. You." She hissed.

He didn't seem shocked or surprised at her coarse of action. Not at all. He was _smiling_. "Oh, you've really done it now."

Before she could respond, she heard it. Him. "Lizzie?"

Slowly, as if she were immersed up to her knees in quicksand, she turned.

His legs were shaking and then he was on his knees. Blood came from a steady stream out the corner of his mouth. His hands were clutched over his abdomen, blood leaking from between his fingers.

"Jace." Her voice was quiet.

It had all been a trick. Jonathan had baited her into a fight. He had wanted her to hurt him. Her stomach rolled. How easily the darkness was to coax out of its hiding hole.

She got to him just as he was falling forward. She skidded down, his head falling against her shoulder. "Shit. Fuck, hold on, okay? Just…just look at me." She pulled back. Her eyes searched his face. "Damn it. I'm sorry."

She struggled to hold him up while searching for her stele. His blood, Jonathan's blood, were beginning to make her hands sticky.

"He was right…" He mumbled. "You'd kill me to get to him…You never…was it all a lie?"

She should have never left. She could have faked it for a little while. She was so good at lying, maybe Jonathan would have never noticed.

Eliza shook her head at him. "No, baby, no." She found the faded sign of an old _iratze_ on his arm. Their gazes met as she lifted her head back up. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Was any of it real?" He asked faintly.

"All of it was real." She laid him on the ground. "Every second. Every kiss. Every 'I love you'." Her hand shook as she pressed her stele against his arm. As she drew the familiar rune on his arm, she leaned up and brushed her lips against his. "I love you and I'm sorry."

She stood up, pocketing her stele. Jonathan was lying a few feet away, no doubt already feeling the effects of Jace's _iratze_. She bent down and yanked the dagger from his stomach.

"This isn't over, Jonathan."

"It seems very much over to me." Blood had coated over his teeth.

The corner of her mouth twitched. "This is the last time we do this. Next time, you're dead." She glanced over at Jace. "Get him out of her."

Wobbling, Jonathan got to his feet. He shoved past her, pace slow and unsteady. She watched him lean over and put his hand on Jace's shoulder. And then they were gone.

Unwillingly, her eyes found Declan's body. Another person, dead because of her. She swallowed.

 _Magnus, we have a problem._

It was twenty minutes later when Magnus arrived. And not alone. He had Simon with him. They were in the same van Simon had bummed off a friend not long after they first met.

"You look like hell." Simon observed.

She didn't even get offended. "At least I'm alive." She nodded towards Declan's body.

"What happened here?" Magnus carefully grabbed her face. He inspected everything from the bruises to the broken nose. And the handprint around her throat.

She looked him dead in the eye. "I'll give you three guesses."

His face softened. "Jonathan?"

"And we have a winner."

She broke from him. He asked what happened. She relayed the events in vivid detail. "Clary wasn't with them?" Simon asked.

"No, thank God."

"Wait." Magnus said as he used his magic to lift Declan's body into the back of the van. "He said you had to choose between Clary and Jace? That's impossible. He knows you won't." When she met his eye, her mouth was set in a firm line. "You've already chosen, haven't you?"

Simon was glaring at her. "Eliza, Clary's-."

She held up a hand and told him to shut up. All her attention was on Magnus. "Yes. And I need a favor. A big one."

He raised an eyebrow. "How big?"

She thought for a moment. "August of this year. But bigger."

"Oh, dear."

* * *

There was only one thing to do. One thing she could do.

She hated to admit it, but her mother was right. No teenage girl liked to admit that their mother was in the right about anything, but Eliza especially hated to admit that Jocelyn's thoughts had hit a bullseye.

She had been blinded by him for too long. She had stared at the sun and now her eyes saw nothing but him. And she very well couldn't stop Jonathan when all she was thinking about was Jace.

The answer, really, was simple. All she had to do was stop loving Jace.

It was a laughable idea. On her own, impossible to achieve. But with the aid of magic, it was entirely possible.

"Are you sure about this?" Magnus asked for the fourth time.

"Completely."

"Eliza-."

"Magnus, please don't try to talk me out of it. My mind is made, and it will stay that way." She had an unreasonably sharp tongue.

He leaned forward on the ottoman so that they were only a few centimeters apart. "Now, to be sure I know what you're asking, you want to stop loving Jace?"

"No." She said slowly. "I want to _forget_ Jace. I want to look at him and see a stranger." Not loving him was one thing, and it wouldn't be enough. He asked why the extra mile. "If I still know him, it will all come back to me. If I can look at him and know that I once loved him, what's to say it I won't fall off that cliff again?"

It was extremely difficult for someone to know Jace Wayland and not love him. He made it hard to do so, but he also made it very easy. To know him just a minute was to love him forever. Which for her, proved to be a massive problem.

"If I don't know him at all, I'll be able to do what needs to be done."

"Which is what? Save Clary? You can do that and still keep your memory of Jace intact."

She said no. That wasn't it at all. "I have to kill Jonathan. Don't you see?"

"I most certainly do not." He said pointedly. "And I don't think you do either. Clearly you're in no state to be making plans. You know that killing Jonathan means killing Jace."

Oh, didn't she? She knew more than anyone. After all, she had almost done the deed earlier that night. It had taken almost half an hour to rid her hands of their blood.

"That is exactly why I need you to take every trace of Jace Wayland from me. I can't…Magnus, I can't make that choice the way I am now. I can't love him and kill him at the same time." He said that was generally how things worked when you loved someone. "No. As a Shadowhunter, I am required to have to make hard choices when it comes down to the wire. And I have before. But when it comes to Jace, if it's him or the world, I'll pick him every single time."

"And this can't wait until they're unbound?"

She shook her head. Magnus leaned back from her. "We aren't necessarily close on figuring that out. No one knows what Jonathan is planning, but I know it's going to happen soon." She told him. "We don't have time."

"Little dove…" He murmured.

She could feel what he felt. The emotions stirring inside of him. "Do you think I _want_ to do this?" Her voice sounded raw, on the verge of crying once again. "I don't want to kill my boyfriend, Magnus, but it has to be done. I made the mistake with my father. I won't do the same with Jonathan. He's worse by a thousand-fold."

Her heart had hurt just from thinking about it. Now, it felt like it was going to rip open. Her only solace was that she eventually wouldn't care. Soon, she wouldn't know him at all.

It was a terrifying thought. To look upon his face and not admire how any light reflected against it. To not lose herself in the honey-gold of his eyes. It burned to think of how he would know her, every inch, every curve, and she would see nothing but a way to kill her brother.

To do this was to know that she'd never hear his voice again. "I love you" would never be said again, she'd never get the warm feeling in her heart when he whispered it or traced it on her back. She would never hold his hand again or feel his arms around her. She would never feel the soft of his lips against her own.

Perhaps the most terrifying thought of all was the possibility that she would wake up one day and know everything. She would remember him entirely. The husk of his voice still shrouded in sleep. The heat of his skin. Each callous on his hands. She would remember him, and he would be gone. Because of her.

This was, Eliza understood perfectly, completely different than Valentine. Yes, she held herself at fault for his death then. But there was a stark difference between being the reason someone died and actually killing them yourself.

This would be her snatching away the future she had dreamt for them. No marriage, no children. No lifetime of love and bliss. This would be taking her sword, much like her father had done with Maellartach, and shoving it through his heart.

But this time, there would be no resurrection. The Angel could not help. Lilith was long gone. This would be the end of Jace.

And if not…well, at what cost? The world? She had to make the right choice this time. When faced with the many or the few, she had to choose the many.

"They won't let you get that far. The Lightwoods. Luke. Even your mother. They'll try to stop you, try to reason with you."

Yes, she'd thought of that. Specifically, the abhorred looks of betrayal they'd give her. That didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. "You'll have to fix that too, then." He asked what she meant by that. "Make me not care. Jonathan was right. My morality holds me back. This is a mission, and it's the only one that matters."

His arms were on his thighs, hands clasped together over his knees. She admired his effort in trying to deter her, but there was no going back. "They'll never forgive you."

"I know."

"Eliza, they'll never speak to you again." He explained. "You'll be alienating yourself from everyone."

It was what she deserved. She always said she'd answer for all the Morgenstern sins. And she would without complaint when the time came.

"Think of Isabelle and Alexander. They've already lost one brother." Also her fault. "Are you willing to rob them of another?" Poor little Max. If only she hadn't been so afraid of Jonathan.

"It has to be done." She said thickly.

If he wouldn't do it, she'd find another warlock who would.

"What about the _parabatai_ connection? Not just between Alexander and Jace, but yourself and Jonathan. You'll feel his death. All of it. Add that in with the twin senses and-."

"Magnus, I know! I know all of this, okay? Believe me, I've thought of everything. I tried to find another way but there isn't one. There is a silver lining, I promise."

He raised his eyebrows. "And what would that be?"

"If the Clave gets to them first, I won't care at all about Jace dying. He'll be just another Shadowhunter."

He seemed wary. "All right." He stood up. He pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. "And you're absolutely, completely, positively sure?"

"…Yes."

Blue sparks of magic sprinkled from his fingertips. He reached out, his hands pressed against the side of her face.

"Wai-." But it was too late. The magic was already seeping into her.


	42. Chapter 42

The training room was quiet. At her arrival to the Institute, she hadn't come across anyone. Perhaps Maryse was out. She knew Alec was with Magnus and assumed Isabelle with Simon. Therefore, she was alone.

Which was how she liked it. Being alone gave her plenty of leeway to think. And to do so in an open fashion. For Eliza, this meant that the twelve training dummies she had set up were in mortal peril.

Her sword moved like an extension of her hand. With each movement, the blade cut into the fabric of one of the dummies. Straw and filling spilling onto the floor.

She grunted as she forced the sword into the chest of the last dummy.

The floorboard creaked. She spun, launching a knife from the brace on her wrist. It landed in the wall next to the door. Isabelle was standing in the door, body stiff.

"Sorry." Eliza muttered.

Isabelle yanked the knife from the wall. "You know we're on the same side, right?"

Eliza crossed the room and took the knife from her. "Yeah. I'm aware." She wiped the knife off and secured it back inside the brace. "Was there something you needed?" She asked, putting the sword back in the sheath on her back.

Izzy grimaced. "Figured you'd need some girl time. Wanna eat? Get drunk? Do a face mask?"

"Now's not a good time. I'm busy."

Izzy looked around the training room. A dozen training dummies had been defeated. Pieces were strewn amongst the room. Straw covered the floor. "Right. You're definitely _not_ in the headspace for girl time." Her eyes landed back on Eliza. "Look, I know you just spent the better part of two months traipsing around the world with the Crazy Team and you need some time to ground yourself back to the Sane Train but locking yourself in Magnus' apartment for days is not healthy."

The Crazy…Team? There was no team. It had just been she and Jonathan until she had dragged her poor sister into it. Now, she had to get Clary back and kill Jonathan. No matter what.

"So," Izzy sighed, "breakfast?"

"Yeah. Breakfast would be good. Can I change?"

Izzy grinned. "God, yes. I'd prefer it if you did."

Her training gear, apparently, was not appropriate for breakfast. On that, she had to agree with Izzy. The younger girl followed her to her room and waited as Eliza changed into a pair of dark jeans and a burgundy sweater that seemed a bit big on her. It smelled like sandalwood. She sniffed it again, her nose twitching with some sense of familiarity.

"I must have mixed Alec's laundry in with mine on accident." She told Izzy, leaving the sweater on. "Tell him I'll give it back later?"

Izzy frowned. The sweater was _not_ her brother's. "Uh, sure…" She took out her phone, eyeing Eliza before sending a quick text to Alec.

"I really am hungry. You have good timing." Eliza said as they left her room. Down the hall, just three rooms, a door was open. She stopped, peeking inside the room. It was immaculately clean. The bed was made, books lined the shelves. There was a ripped leather jacket on the back of the desk chair.

She didn't remember anyone occupying this room.

She glanced at Izzy. "Did someone move in?" She asked.

"I…What?"

Eliza motioned to the room. "This room's been empty since I got here in May. And now, it's not. Did someone move in while I was gone?"

The other girl frowned at her. "Did you like hit your head or something while you were training?" Eliza said no. "Liz, this is Jace's room."

Jace…?

"Who?"

Izzy made a frustrated noise. "Jace?" Eliza stared back blankly, waiting for an explanation. "Jace Wayland. Herondale. Whatever he's going by. He's my adoptive brother. And your boyfriend."

Her _what_? She did not have a boyfriend. Her last boyfriend had been Declan, who she had broken up with after her father's death. And he was currently dead. Dead dead, not vampire dead.

Eliza laughed darkly. "I think _you_ hit your head, Isabelle. Maybe we should reschedule breakfast so you can lie down."

Izzy opened her mouth, but then shut it quickly. "Yeah, good idea…See you later." Izzy turned and sprinted down the hallway.

Eliza's eyebrows downturned. "Weirdo." And so she resolved to finishing her training session.

* * *

" _You did what to her_?" Jocelyn Fairchild shouted at Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn. Her friend and ally for nearly sixteen years. Her fiancé, Luke Garroway (or Greymark, depending on who addressed him), grabbed her wrist.

There were many people sitting in Magnus' living room. It resembled an impromptu conference that had taken place only a week ago. The only person missing was the one who happened to be the subject of the conversation.

"Let him talk. I'm sure he has a reasonable explanation." Luke told Jocelyn softly.

Jocelyn's green eyes were lit with ferocity. "He'd better." She snapped.

Magnus leaned back into the high-backed purple armchair. Not so long ago, he had walked in after a meeting to see his roommate engaged in a heated makeout session with her steamy boyfriend. It had been a sight that made even him blush.

"She asked." He told them all simply.

Jocelyn's expression configured into a harsh rage. One her eldest daughter wore often. He had once believed the expression had been inherited from her father, but now he knew her mother was responsible. "Did you even try to talk her out of it?"

There was a sarcastic comment ready on his tongue. At the look of warning on his boyfriend's face, he decided against it. "For over an hour. Your daughter is especially stubborn."

"I know." Jocelyn muttered.

Alec licked over his lips. "So, you made her forget about Jace entirely? Why would she want that? What even brought that on?"

This was the part that Magnus was reluctant to share. More so in front of his boyfriend and his younger sister. They would be the ones most hurt by Eliza's plan, should she succeed on her mission.

"The night before last, I was pushing Eliza out of the apartment. She'd been holed up here for days. I asked Declan to retrieve her and to feed her something other than chips from a can. He came for-."

Isabelle interrupted him. "Where is he, anyway?" She did a onceover of the room. Declan was almost always present. He and Magnus were close friends and even after she had broken his heart, he remained loyal to Eliza. Magnus and Simon shared a look, which Isabelle witnessed. "What aren't you telling?" She demanded from Simon.

"Declan's….uh, he's kind of dead…" Simon mumbled.

Magnus crossed his legs.

"Yeah. He's a vampire. None of you are exactly alive." Isabelle snapped.

Simon looked to Magnus for help. The warlock heaved a sigh before standing up. "Declan was murdered two nights ago. By Jace."

" _What?_ " Isabelle breathed. "No. Jace wouldn't…He'd never hurt Declan. He knows what that would do to Eliza. She'd never forgive him."

The sad look on Magnus' face confirmed it. Jace had in fact killed Declan. "Eliza said that the entire point of the encounter was to pit Jace against her. Jonathan wanted Jace completely to himself and he knew just how to do it. He made it seem as if Eliza never cared for Jace and had come back for Declan. He was so distraught, so angry, that he murdered Declan in his rage."

Jocelyn let out a breath. She grabbed onto Luke's hand. "And that was enough to convince her to do this? I didn't know she cared about Declan so much."

Magnus shook his head. Eliza did care about Declan. But there was someone else that she cared about more. So much so that the possibility of that person's death had pushed her over the edge.

"So, what?" Jocelyn asked. "What else could he have done to her to make her go this far?" And then, she answered her own question. "He threatened Jace, didn't he? He threatened Jace and she did something drastic." A talent she had inherited from her mother.

"Worse." Simon told the mother of his best friend.

There was nothing worse to Eliza than threatening the life of the boy she loved. There was nothing more dangerous to a person's life than threatening that of Jace Wayland's.

"What could be worse to her?" Luke asked. "She doesn't love anyone more."

Alec stood up quite suddenly. Magnus watched him pace about the room, thin hands raking through his dark hair. The blue eyes of his boyfriend were wide. "Yes, she does." His head snapped over to Magnus. "There's one person." Luke asked who that would be. "Clary." He looked back at his boyfriend. "Sebastian threatened Clary, didn't he?"

Jocelyn began to argue that Eliza cared about her sister, but not at the length she would place her over Jace. "She loves him too much. His life is over everyone else's."

Alec said no, not truly. "There are two people that Eliza would sacrifice everything, even the world for. Jace and Clary. Ever since Clary came into our lives, Eliza has done everything she can to protect her. She put herself in the way of Abbadon to save Clary. She put herself in Valentine's way over and over to protect Clary, even though she was terrified of him. While we were in Alicante, she said _horrible_ things to Clary just so she'd come home because Eliza knew what the Clave would do if they knew about Clary's abilities. She felt awful about it. And when we fought Sebastian, I have never seen her look angrier than when he hurt Clary." He explained.

"Alec's right." Simon agreed. "The night I got kidnapped by those vampires, Eliza almost died trying to get Clary out of there. She let Raphael take a chunk out of her neck."

Magnus stood and walked over to join his boyfriend. He put his arm around Alec.

"What did he say about Clary?" Jocelyn asked them. "I know that she told you, Magnus."

He let go of Alec. "He told Eliza that she had to choose which one she was going to save. She could either have Jace or Clary. He even offered her Jace and she turned him down." He looked Jocelyn in the eye. "She took what you said to heart. Too much so, I believe. She thinks the only way to win this, to beat her brother and save Clary is to-."

"To what?" Isabelle interrupted. She jumped up. Simon tried to grab her, but she evaded his hand. "What is she planning, Magnus?"

"It seems you already know." He said quietly. He didn't want to say the words. To say them was to speak out the possibility it would happen.

"Say it." Isabelle snapped at him. The two words were spoken in a constricted manner.

Simon turned his face from her. Magnus was silent. Simon looked back at her. If Magnus wouldn't say it, he would. "She's going to kill him."

Isabelle turned her dark eyes on him. "Which one?" She asked slowly.

"Either. Both. She explained it all when we picked her up that night." He answered. "She doesn't think we have the time to find out how to separate the two of them. She thinks killing them is the only way to stop Sebastian."

The finely molded expression on Isabelle's face faltered. Her shoulders slumped. "No. She can't." She murmured. "She can't kill Jace. She loves him. She'd never…"

"Not anymore." Alec reminded her solemnly. "She doesn't even know him now."

Simon agreed with him.

"She knew that she couldn't sacrifice him if she still loved him, if she could look at him and see someone she once loved." Magnus told them.

"How long will it last?" Luke inquired. Jocelyn was staring out the window, her face drawn together in deep thought. "What you've done to her mind, how long will it last?"

Magnus said there was no telling. Altering her entire memory had taken a lot of magic. Combining that with making her forget an entire person, changing her heart, he had no idea just how long it would take for it to wear off. If it even would.

"You did it to her before." Isabelle said. "You made her think she was someone else completely. Why is this different?"

"Because before, the alteration was based on fact. She had created an alternate persona for herself. The life I created for her was based on the one she had. I was replacing memories. This…I just took away. I took away memories, I took feeling, I took part of her."

Luke said something under his breath. Magnus asked him to repeat himself. "If she does this…If she succeeds and one day, it all comes back to her, it's going to destroy her. She'll never forgive herself."

Jocelyn finally turned back to them. "Then we have to make sure it doesn't get that far." Magnus met her eye. "We're racing against two clocks now. Jonathan and Eliza. He can't go through with his plan and she can't go through with hers."

Isabelle had a resolute look on her face. She wiped her face. "We need to separate Jace from Sebastian. Fast. And then Eliza can do whatever she wants to Jonathan."

The door opened. They all turned. Eliza shrugged off her coat and tossed it on the coat rack. She turned towards the living room. "What're you guys talking about?"

"Nothing." Isabelle said quickly. "Dinner plans."

Eliza made a face, but let it go. "Great. I'm starving."

* * *

It was three days later when Eliza remembered the oddity of Isabelle's behavior nearly a week before. Her strange words, the boy who had a room at the Institute, but Eliza had no recollection of him. And yet, in Isabelle's mind, the boy had an entire life story.

An overheard conversation between brother and sister in which the name "Jace" was invoked was how Eliza found herself standing in front of the door to this very room. After a glance in both directions, she pushed the door open.

The scent of sandalwood wafted through her nose. Light poured in through the windows. A straight ray of sun stretched over the white duvet over the bed. The door to the adjacent bathroom was open. The leather jacket was still on the back of the chair that was tucked neatly into the desk.

She ran her hand over the back of the jacket, her finger dipped into the large tear in the fabric. Her eyes scanned over the room, landing on the bookshelf. It was filled with books. Dostoyevsky, Dickens, Tolstoy, Rand, Homer. Several works by Haggard. She let her fingers skim over the spines of the books, stopping on one. _The Manchurian Candidate_. Her favorite.

Whoever this boy was, he enjoyed literature. The classical kind.

There were photographs on the dresser. She recognized several people. One of the photos pictured the three Lightwood children standing and smiling with a boy who looked to be aged near Alec and Isabelle. They stood on either side of him and the boy held Max on his shoulders. She picked the photo up. The boy was…breathtaking. Golden features, a crooked smile, eyes alight.

"Who are you?" She murmured.

Eliza put the photo back. To say her interest in this mystery case was piqued was an understatement. She moved back to the desk. She pulled the chair back and sat down. Unabashedly, she yanked open the topmost left drawer. Pens, pencils, a notebook. Condoms. Nothing of significant interests.

She lifted the notebook to find a carefully folded piece of sketch paper. "What's this?" She murmured, taking it from the drawer.

She moved to open it.

"Liz?" Alec's voice floated through the room.

She turned, hiding the paper behind her. "Alec, hi. What're you-what's up?"

He raised an eyebrow, looking around the room. "What are you doing in here?"

She stood up, discreetly tucking the paper in her back pocket. "I could ask you the same thing." Her voice dropped mysteriously.

"Right." He said slowly. "Look, I need a sparring partner. You in?"

"So, I can kick your ass? Oh, absolutely." She grinned.

* * *

Alec landed a solid hit to her side. As he swung again, she sidestepped the hit. Eliza dropped down and her leg swung out, slamming into Alec's ankles and knocking him down. She hopped up, looking down at him as a bead of sweat rolled down her forehead.

"Best six out of ten?" She asked with a smile. She stuck out her hand.

He took it and grunted as she helped him up. "Your ass is mine this time." He warned her.

"Better not let Magnus hear." She teased.

Alec rolled his eyes. "Can I ask you a question?" He squared his body across from hers.

She cracked her neck, shaking out her hands. "Only if I can ask you one."

He said it was a deal. He jabbed and she ducked the hit. Her fist skimmed his shoulder. "How're you holding up?" He paused to land a punch to her bicep. "And be honest. It's me."

She hesitated before stepping back. "I'm fine." He gave her a look. "Seriously, Alec. I'm okay. I just want all this to be over. I'm sick and tired of living in the Morgenstern shadow of death and darkness."

He stifled a laugh at her comment. Alec knew particularly the strength of that shadow. It had encompassed his loved ones.

"My turn." She hopped forward on her right foot and landed a jab to his jaw. Alec backstepped, and popped his jaw. "What's the deal with this Jace guy?" The question made him fumble back. She reached out, catching him by the arm and pulling him back to a vertical position. "Alec, come on. Tell me."

"You really wanna know?"

"Obviously."

"Jace is…"

She was staring at him expectantly, green eyes bright with curiosity. She was waiting for the truth. It was something he could give her. Something he should give her. Maybe if he gave it to her, she would remember everything and that would solve _one_ of their problems.

But he couldn't. Vividly, he remembered the last time they had been in this predicament. Then, the truth had been dangerous enough to kill her. Forcing it on her now might have the same effect.

The only solution to everything was the separate Jace from Sebastian so that Jace would be safe and Sebastian could be taken care of. By Eliza, the Clave, or whoever got to him first.

But even if Jace came back, she wouldn't remember him. She'd look at him and see a stranger. And he would see her, the person he loved most in the world.

"He's an old family friend." Alec finally said. He wasn't a good liar, really terrible at it actually. Nowhere near as skilled at the art as Eliza. "He stayed here while you were gone. His dad and mine were _parabatai_."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Shame I missed him." She said. "Saw that photo of you guys. He's pretty hot."

Alec cracked a smile. "He's your type."

Eliza smirked as they picked their sparring match back up. "Damn shame then."

As they continued on, Alec watched her. He wanted to tell the truth so badly. Did she feel that way whenever she told a lie? He didn't even have to ask, he knew she did. The truth ate her away like a parasite. And it would do the same to him.

If only she'd been a little more persistent, a little more curious.

* * *

Her fingertips fell against the cool marble of the countertop in a crisp pattern, the sound of raindrops hitting glass.

"Well," she leaned forward, elbow resting on the counter and her other hand holding her chin, "have you heard from her?"

Simon blinked. The smell of blueberries curved through Magnus' kitchen. "Who?" He asked absently. "Oh, you mean Clary?"

Eliza rolled her eyes and spun back around to the stove. There was a plate on the counterspace next to the stove. It was filled with a stack of fresh, fluffy blueberry pancakes. She grabbed the spatula and flipped the pancake currently being cooked. "Who the hell else would I mean? Is there someone else my brother is holding hostage?"

Simon coughed.

"So?" She prompted.

"Not lately. Not since…."

She turned her head as she put the pancake on the plate. She poured batter into the pan. "Not since what?"

"Not since you came home." Isabelle flounced into the kitchen. She was wearing one of Simon's shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. Her dark hair was messily braided. "Right, Simon?"

Simon nodded in agreement. "Right." He mumbled.

Isabelle, shockingly, kissed him straight on the mouth. Eliza turned back to her pancakes. So, they were on good terms again. Good to know.

"I smell blueberry pancakes!" Magnus' voice floated into the room. He seemed to glide into the kitchen on air, his teal robe billowing behind him. Alec was next to him, hands entwined. Magnus looked refreshed and renewed. Alec still had sleep all over him. "Delicious, little dove. Absolutely divine." He let go of Alec's hand and kissed the top of Eliza's head. "You are an angel."

"Not hardly." She snorted. The comment earned a stifling look from him. "Simon, can you try talking to Clary again? Ask where they are and how long she thinks they'll be there. If she can tell you, we can Portal over and finish this bullshit."

Behind her, everyone went still.

"Finish it?" Isabelle asked quietly. "What-What do you mean?"

Eliza flipped the pancake and turned around. The spatula was loose in her grip. "Don't play dumb, Iz. If we find out where she is, Magnus can Portal us there. We can get Clary back, I can kill my brother, and this whole mess will be over."

Izzy clamped her mouth shut. Alec and Magnus looked at one another. Eliza's eyes rested on Simon, one of her thin eyebrows arched questioningly.

"Yeah, uh, I'll try again. I'll wait 'til later today, it's probably nighttime wherever they are."

She said nothing else before turning back to the food.

* * *

Her back burned. Written deep in the porcelain flesh were dozens of whip marks. Scars that had never healed properly because they were made from a demon weapon. An _iratze_ couldn't heal something inflicted by demon poison. They were jagged, rough over smooth skin. Barely noticeable, nearly the same color as her own skin.

Shadowhunters were made of scars. The silvery glaze of old runes and battle marks.

On the side of her neck, where it connected to her shoulder, there was a raised, red circular scar. It was lumpy to the touch. A thick red scar cut down the middle of her chest where her father had murdered her. Not that it had stuck. There was another scar, a faint pink line from that same night. It was barely the length of her pinky finger, just above her left pelvic bone. _Thank you, Jonathan_.

Her eyes lifted in the mirror, finding the dark rune on the left side of her neck. A sharply jutted line, curves and edges. _Parabatai_.

It was the first time it hadn't hurt since she'd returned home. A great distance between two _parabatai_ could sever the bond. Maybe that was it. Or maybe, just maybe, the night she had nearly killed him had done the bond in. _Parabatai_ weren't exactly supposed to turn on one another.

Runes could be ruined. Disfiguration usually broke the power.

"I won't let you hold me anymore."

She picked up the knife on her desk, pressing the tip to the middle of the rune. The cool tip of the blade stuck into the skin.

"Eliza!"

The knife knocked from her grip, clattering to the floor.

Her mother was staring back at her, green eyes wide with horror. "What the hell are you doing?"

She turned, her finger sliding against the spot where the knife had once been. Her fingertip came back slick with a drop of blood. "I-uh," she paused, "it's not-."

"It's not what, Eliza? Are you trying to hurt yourself?"

Fiercely, Eliza shook her head. "No. Of course not. I was just trying to break the _parabatai_ bond. I don't want it."

Jocelyn's face softened. She picked the knife up from the floor and set it back on the desk. "Come here." She led Eliza to the bed and sat her down. "Listen, when I told you that your father and your brother were a part of you, I never meant for you to do this. Being a Morgenstern isn't a bad thing, Eliza. Not if you aren't-."

"A crazy psychopath?"

Jocelyn laughed under her breath. "That wasn't where I was going, but sure. I know how it feels to be in your shoes. And I know that they've done horrible, despicable things to you. Things no one should go through. They made you strong. It was wrong, but for it, you're a better person. A brilliant Shadowhunter."

Jocelyn's hands were holding onto hers, fingers curled around hers. "Jonathan said I'm not a Morgenstern. He said-."

Her mother raised her eyebrows. "Are we taking everything he says to heart now?" Eliza said no. "Good. Because he's wrong. You are a Morgenstern. And you're a Fairchild. No one can take that from you, unless you let them."

Maybe she didn't want to be a Morgenstern anymore. It was a hassle, living in the shadow of a deranged father and a psychopath brother. Everyone expected her to be the same. To do the same, refuse to serve.

"What if I don't want to use the name?" She murmured. "Could I go by Fairchild?"

Jocelyn pulled her in for a hug. Her hands raked through Eliza's short hair. It had grown down to her shoulders but wasn't nearly as long as it once was. "Of course, you could. The Fairchild name would be lucky if you used it. But I've got to tell you…"

"What?"

She kissed the top of her head. "The Morgenstern name used to be a great one. It was revered. Honored. They used to be a great family, before your father. You have the power to do that again, build it back up into something great. The stain is deep, but it can be removed."

Eliza smiled. The look faltered. _Refusal to serve._ She didn't want that. "Mom," a word she hadn't said very much, it still felt foreign on her tongue, "everyone thinks I'm going to be like them. Bad, wrong. I don't want _refusal to serve_ hanging over my head. I'm never going to be like that."

"Kiddo, you already are." Jocelyn told her. Eliza pulled back. "I mean," she started, hands on her shoulders, "it isn't about betraying the Clave or turning away from your loved ones. Your father thought it was all about some loss of great power refusing to serve. You already bore that mark. You have since the day you turned against Valentine. The moment you chose to be better was your refusal to serve. The words mean what you want them to."

* * *

She pulled the cloak closer to her body. The upper streets of the city were cold, but as always, the Silent City proved colder.

She was wanted in the Silent City. Specifically, her mind. The truth. Whatever information she cold divulge to the Consul. No one ever took her truth fully. The girl of lies was not capable of the truth. Not willingly, anyway.

"It's fine." Maryse whispered to her. "You have nothing to be worried about."

Eliza gnawed on her bottom lip. "I'm not worried." She insisted. "I'm simply not too keen on holding the Angel's Sword."

The Lightwood matriarch put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Maryse had never been so informal with her before. "It will be over before you know it. It's heavy, but once Jia realizes you're telling the truth, it will be over."

Jia? As in, Jia Penhallow? The Penhallows weren't too fond of her. And she didn't blame them. She had allowed them to house her brother under a stolen, bloodied name. Any shame they felt in falling for Jonathan's lie was placed on her.

She'd nearly forgotten that Jia Penhallow was the new Consul. Fantastic.

"It's not the truth I'm worried about." Eliza muttered. Ever since Maryse had arrived at Magnus' and told her that she was wanted by the Consul for questioning, her chest had been on fire. The scar seemed to be burning a hole into her.

They arrived in the council chamber. Jia Penhallow stood amongst the newest of the Silent Brothers. The only ones left. A sick feeling rang through her. The ranks of the brothers were lower than ever.

"Maryse. Thank you for bringing her." Jia stepped out, robes the color of blood. "Miss Morgenstern." She was acknowledged with a stern nod.

"Consul Penhallow." Eliza replied curtly.

Her eyes traveled through the chamber. The Speaking Stars stood out on the floor. Above the stars, on the wall, hung the sword itself.

 _Maellartach_.

If she'd never seen it again, it would've been too soon.

It was clean. Scourged of any blood. There was no evidence to show that it had been shoved in her chest. Not on the sword anyway.

"You know why you're here?" Jia asked.

She nodded, stepping closer, away from Maryse. "I'm being questioned on my loyalty to the Clave. You want to make sure I'm telling the truth."

Jia said that was exactly it. "Brother Zachariah."

The Silent Brother (who was the most un-Silent Brother-like of his kind) stepped forward. _Miss Morgenstern. I am glad to see that you are yourself once again._

She stared back at him. Could the others hear?

 _No. I speak only to you. I must inquire upon your dearest companion, Jace Herondale._

Jace Herondale? Who was that? The only Jace she knew of was Jace Wayland. Alec's friend, ward of the Lightwoods. And she didn't even know him, she knew of him. Now, there was another Jace, someone Brother Zachariah thought to be close to her. She didn't even know who he was talking about.

"I don't know who that is." She said. "Shadowhunter's honor."

Jia's eyes narrowed as she looked between Eliza and Brother Zachariah. "The Sword. For questioning."

One of the Silent Brother's lifted the Sword effortlessly. _Eliza Morgenstern, step forward for questioning._

She placed herself among the Speaking Stars, her feet covering one of the smaller stars. Though they were shaking, she held her hands out, palms up.

"Afraid of the truth, Miss Morgenstern?" Jia Penhallow asked proudly.

"Not hardly, Consul." The Silent Brother placed the Sword in her hands. The metal blade was cold on her skin. She winced as her fingers moved to curl around the edge of the blade. "I just…" Eliza groaned, "I don't like holding the weapon that killed me. Bad memories or whatever."

The pain itself had been something words could not describe. And so had what came before death. The image of the Angel standing before her father. Likenesses of Raziel did not do him justice. There was no way to capture the raw beauty of the Angel.

Death itself was not memorable. She hadn't really been dead long enough, she supposed. A blank nothing. The void. The angels didn't allow demon spawn into Heaven and she didn't think she was evil enough for Hell.

"Is it true that Lilith, mother of warlocks and first of demons, brought life back into your body?" Jia interrogated.

"Yes." Eliza said easily. The Sword was heavy, but pain would not come unless she tried to lie. "She took a life in order to restore mine."

"How did she restore life to your brother?"

She closed her eyes. She remembered, she knew she did. But where that memory had once rested now became a blank spot in her mind. Jonathan was alive. But how? He had died, she knew that. She had seen it. She was sure it was her knife that had been tucked into the notch in his back that severed his spine and pierced his heart. It sounded right, but it didn't _feel_ right.

"Miss Morgenstern, how did Lilith bring your brother back to life?" Jia repeated. "You must answer the question.

Her eyes opened. "I don't know." She spoke the truth.

"Yes, you do. You were here. We know you were there."

Eliza shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't…I don't remember."

Still, no pain came to her.

 _She is free of pain. Her words are truthful._

Jia grimaced. "You were bound to your brother. Lilith did this?"

"She used a demonic form of our Wedded Union runes to bind me to Jonathan." Jia asked why this was necessary. "We hate each other. We always have. He wanted to be Father's favorite and I wanted to be free. Lilith believed that since we were twins, we were connected. She took it upon herself to ensure we would be."

"Why has the bond failed?"

Eliza unfolded the true events of her night in a London vampire nest as she recalled them. Declan Kensley had rescued her from Edward Delancey and taken her to Magnus. Magnus used his magic on her to hold her. It had an unforeseen effect in which it began to break down the bond. The Wedded Union runes began to fade, and she slowly became repulsed by Jonathan once again. Magnus Blocked her memory so she would forget the encounter and released her with a new memory in which she had been attacked by Delancey. She awoke back in his home. Jonathan had rescued her and slaughtered all the vampires. Since then, the bond broke away.

"Is the bond truly broken or are you a spy?"

"It's broken." Eliza reported. "The runes have faded. I'm ready to kill my brother."

Maryse sucked in a breath. Jia's firm look faltered. "Even at the expense of Jace Herondale?" Jia questioned.

"Who?"

"Don't play stupid with me, Miss Morgenstern."

Eliza gripped the Angel's Sword tightly. Something warm was coating her hands. "I don't know of a Jace Herondale, Consul Penhallow."

"Jace Wayland, then, as he is better known."

Alec's friend? She didn't see how he was involved in any of this. "What does Jace Wayland have to do with this? I don't even know him."

Jia stared back at her. "Miss Morgenstern, I don't-." Maryse interrupted her, rushing to Jia's side.

Eliza closed her eyes once again. The photo of Jace with the Lightwood children was brought to the forefront of her mind. Familiarity prickled. Something about him seemed so…known to her. _Did she know him_? Not that she could remember, but he brought about an itch she couldn't seem to scratch. Her eyes squinted. Pain surged through her brain. There was a wall blocking something, something important, something _vital_.

 _There_.

The image of him burst forth in her head. The slight breeze of May, the smell of the ocean behind her. People scurrying, knocking into her. And then there was _him_. A beacon among the sea of ordinary. Golden curls rested atop his head, the halo of a fallen angel. The dark ink of runes stood out on his flesh, mixed in with the silver of faded Marks that strongly contrasted the golden tan of his skin. Tall and slim, but muscular still. The image refocused closer to his face. Long, dark lashes that hid eyes the color of amber. A brilliant smile, a chipped upper incisor.

This, this was Jace Wayland. Or Herondale. Whatever his name was.

This was the boy her brother used as a human shield.

The image blurred and fell away. She tried to get it back but found nothing.

Pain flared through her and she gasped. The sword fell to the floor. Her eyes flew open.

Jia and Maryse were staring back at her.

"Eliza, are you all right?" Maryse hurried to her. She took her hands and Eliza looked down. On each of her hands was a thin slice. Blood streaked her palms.

Now twice had her blood stained the Soul-Sword.

Eliza nodded, her mouth dry. "Fine." She mumbled. "I'm fine." She clenched her hands into fists. "Why is Jace important?"

"Jace is tethered to your brother. The result of a twinning ritual completed by Lilith before her death. Their lives are entwined. To kill one is to kill the other." Jia explained to her.

Eliza's eyes widened. So, Jonathan did have another hostage. That's why everyone was so reluctant to discuss Jace Wayland with her. His life was in danger. "Is there a way to reverse the ritual?" Eliza asked them. "Can they be separated?"

Maryse shook her head slowly. "We haven't found a way yet. We're all working diligently on it."

A decision had to be made. One or the world. "He has to die." She said tersely. Maryse said she was aware that Sebastian needed to die. "No. I mean, yes, but he isn't who I meant. Jace Herondale has to die."

Maryse's eyes- the same blue as Alec's- widened as she stared back at her. "Eliza-."

"I hate to sacrifice the life of a Nephilim, of anyone, but the only true way to stop Jonathan before he succeeds is to kill him." She told Maryse. Everyone was in agreeance that Jonathan had to go, but upon her return, they all seemed reluctant to finish it. Now she knew why. Someone the Lightwood's cared about was on the line. "If the boy has to die, so be it." She said softly before turning her attention back to Jia. "What is the stance of the Clave on this matter?"

Jia wore a sorrowful, guilty look. "Jace Herondale is a target."

She thought so.

"Jonathan can't be allowed to live." Eliza spoke surely. "And neither, it seems, can Jace." No one was safe. Not even beautiful boys that seemed to be crafted by the Angel himself.


	43. Chapter 43

When she walked into Magnus' apartment, it was a wreck. Magnus and Alec were standing by the window. Simon and Jordan lazily on the couch. Surprisingly, Isabelle was in the connected kitchen. Even more so, Maia was with her.

"God, what happened here?" Eliza hung her cloak on the rack. "Did you fight demons while I was gone? So not fair, Magnus."

Chairman Meow came running towards her. She scooped him up, nuzzling him to her chest.

"Not exactly. We had a little chat with Azazel." Magnus let the gauzy curtain fall back.

The smell coming from the kitchen was dismal. "Iz, why don't we order in?" She suggested carefully. The odor lit the idea that the food would taste much worse than it smelled. "I feel like everyone really needs Chinese right now anyway."

"Some Tso's would be good." Jordan agreed.

Isabelle flicked off the stove. Magnus instructed that the takeout menus were above the refrigerator. Eliza sat down on the ottoman, the little kitten still resting against her chest.

"So," she looked at Magnus, "Azazel? What could you all have been discussing with a Prince of Hell? Tea times? Fabrics?"

"Weapons." Alec mumbled.

"Specifically," Maia chimed in as she sat on the arm of the sofa beside Jordan, "something that can sever the bond between Jace and Sebastian."

Now that was something interesting. She let the cat go and he darted off to her room. "And? Can he help?"

Bitterly, Magnus said no. He explained that the first time, Azazel had taken from each of them a happy memory and then relayed his plan. While he had no weapon, nor could forge, that would separate the two boys, he would happily hold Jace in Hell until the connection broke. But then, the kicker was, Azazel was to roam freely.

"I hope you said no." Eliza told him. "That's too risky."

Jordan snorted. "He declined _us_." She asked what could make that happen.

The others turned pointed gazes to Simon. He pushed back his hair to show her the Mark of Cain her sister had so generously bestowed upon him.

"Ah, yes, that would do it." She said woefully. "Good thing, though, since the answer is so simple."

"What's that?" Maia asked. Surely if it was so simple, they would've already done so.

Alec muttered something under his breath. Simon leaned back, clearly not happy about the direction the conversation had gone. Magnus turned back to the window.

"You've got to kill them." Eliza said, the answer so simple to her. "The Clave and I agree that the best option is to end this before it really starts. My brother has to die and if the price is Jace Herondale's life, then it needs to be paid."

Maia stared back at her, brown eyes glittering with confusion. Even Jordan looked shocked. "How can you say that?" Maia whispered.

Eliza stood up. "I know that he must mean a lot to all of you. I'm sorry to suggest it, I am, but this is the only path that's clear. My sister's life is in danger. And the fate of the world rests on this decision." The last part, she knew, was a little too melodramatic. Anything to get the point across. These were people who existed in a world solely to protect it. Alec and Isabelle were Shadowhunters like herself. Made to protect both the Shadow World and the mundane world. Magnus was a warlock, sworn to their side because of his love for Alec and his affection for her. Maia and Jordan, werewolves loyal to Luke, who had once been a Shadowhunter. And Simon. Loyal to Isabelle. Loyal to Clary, his lifelong friend. Surely, he would put this boy's life on the line for hers. "I let my feelings get in the way when it came to my father. I _won't_ let that happen with Jonathan."

Isabelle flitted back in the room. "Food's on its way." Her dark eyes scanned the room. "What'd I miss?"

"Don't ask." Alec sighed. "Just don't."

Simon jumped up from his spot on the couch. Eliza stared at him. "I have an idea. It's not the best, but it doesn't involve anyone getting murdered by Eliza."

"That's a good idea." Isabelle told him.

Magnus asked him to elaborate on his idea. "The Mark of Cain is my protection, right? Nothing can hurt me or kill me?"

"Right." Magnus said slowly. "I mean, you can do yourself in. Accidents happen. But nothing malicious will harm you."

Simon agreed with all of that. "So, what if I summoned an angel?"

They all stared back at him.

Simon laid his plan out in semi-detailed form. Magnus would help him to summon an angel. The Mark of Cain would, hopefully, provide him protection from being smote by a heavenly body. He'd ask for a weapon. Only a weapon made from Heaven or Hell could separate Jace from Jonathan. They'd struck out with Hell. Maybe Heaven was the answer.

"Or," Eliza said once Simon had finished, a knife twisted between her fingers, "you could get me a location and I can make good on my several promises to murder my brother. My plan is a lot easier and doesn't involve you getting smote by an angel."

The group looked around at each other. Their collective gazes settled on Magnus. It was, after all, his fault that all she wanted to do was murder her brother at the expense of the boy she had once loved. And now knew nothing about.

"We'll go with Simon's plan for now." Magnus decided. He watched Eliza's eyes darken. "And, if our vampire gets stricken down by Heaven's finest, you have free reign."

Six of the seven people all shared the same thought. _Simon's plan needed to work._

* * *

Everyone was gone. The apartment quiet. Okay, maybe not everyone was gone. Alec practically lived there. Which was why, he was lounging on the couch with her and Magnus as they watched some gaudy romantic comedy.

Alec and Magnus were curled up together. Magnus' legs draped over Alec's, Alec's arm slung over Magnus' shoulder. And she had a cat. Chairman Meow, naturally, was settled on Eliza's lap, sleepy purrs escaping him every so often.

"How was your trial?" Alec asked quietly, glancing over at her. "My mom told me she was taking you."

Eliza bit down on her bottom lip. "It went fine. Consul Penhallow said she'd alert the Clave that my allegiance was sure. I'm sure I'll suffer some sort of consequence when this is all over. If I don't, it's seriously screwed up."

There'd never been time before for her to serve penance for everything. It seemed like when one problem was solved, another popped up in its place. All thanks to her family.

"Nothing else?" Magnus asked.

He knew better. He could see into her head, when she allowed and when her emotions got the best of her. He knew exactly what had happened. What she'd seen.

"No." She lied. There really was no need to delve into that. "Are you sure about this whole Simon thing?" She asked. "If Raziel ends up smiting him, we're going to have some serious explaining to do to Clary when she comes back."

Magnus grimaced. That they would. And not just to Clary. He was going to hate telling Jace what he'd done to his girlfriend. They'd never gotten along before and this was going to push past the point of return.

"He'll be fine." Alec assured her. "I think that once Simon explains what's going on, the Angel will be happy to help."

She arched an eyebrow. That was awfully optimistic of him. Maybe too much so. He sounded so hopeful, so inclined to believe his words. She let him have that. Everyone needed a little hope.

Maybe she'd relish in it too. After all, if the plan did work and they saved the Herondale boy's life, she could get him alone. Alec did say he was her type.

After, of course, she carved her brother like a Christmas roast.

* * *

"You've seen him." Isabelle was staring pointedly at Eliza. "How tall is Raziel? Sixty feet?" Isabelle pressured. She really believed Raziel had to be sixty-feet tall. He was their angel, the best of the best. He had to appear that way, for her.

Eliza took a stab at her orange chicken. It was left over from the previous night. Not as good, but it staved off the hunger. "I was pretty busy dying so I didn't really get to measure him." She noted dryly. Isabelle's face twisted. "He's beautiful, though. His wings looked like they could span across the world. He's pure light. Shining brighter than the sun."

"But where will we do it?" Alec asked. "We need a big space, somewhere secluded."

On that, she fell silent. Deftly, she touched her hand to the middle of her chest. Even through her shirt, she could feel the heat of the scar.

"Luke has a farm upstate." Simon informed them. "There's a lake too, not very big, but it might work." Isabelle asked how far it was. He said only a couple hours.

Her face brightened. "If we leave right now, we can make it before sundown for sure." She told Magnus.

Firmly, he shook his head and said no. "I'm in no position to perform that amount of magic. I need rest. All of us do. We've been working at this nearly non-stop since yesterday." Izzy asked how long he wanted them to wait. "A few hours. I'm going to bed." With that, he stood up and disappeared down the hall.

"I'll call and see if Jordan will let us borrow his truck." Simon told them. He got up and left the living room. "I'll be back around noon." He called and they heard the door slam shut.

Eliza silently finished her food. She had picked through the container until all the orange chicken was gone and only bits of overdone fried rice remained.

"I hope this works." Isabelle said to them quietly. Alec agreed with her. Their gazes slid over to Eliza, who was consumed with her rice. "You want this to work, right?" Izzy asked her.

She looked up, eyes blank. "Yeah. Of course, I do." She mumbled. "I want to get Clary back." She wanted her sister safe. Away from Jonathan.

"And Jace too, right?" Izzy tested. Alec shot her a look.

Eliza frowned. "Uh huh." She shrugged after. He didn't make that much of a difference to her. He was an option, a means to an end if need be. A little pawn in the game Jonathan had started with her. "I'm sure you guys will be happy to have him back."

"You will be too."

She smiled. "Look, when I said he was cute, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm way too damaged to enter a relationship. My last boyfriend was just murdered by my brother, so I'm steering clear of romance for a while."

It wasn't easy for Isabelle or Alec to hear her so blatantly disregard Jace. Granted, they knew that she didn't remember him at all. He had never existed to her before a few days ago. He meant nothing to her, and she meant everything to him.

"I'm gonna go take a nap. Rest up before I have to see the Angel again, since last time he denied me life and my demon blood-donor got to bring me back and start all this shit." Eliza pushed up from the couch and went to her own room, the kitten trailing behind her.

Isabelle turned to her brother. "We have to make her remember before we bring Jace home."

Alec sighed. "It could kill her. It's best if we leave it alone. Maybe she'll remember on her own."

"But what if she doesn't, Alec? Jace is going to come home and be so excited to see her. And she- she's just going to look at him and see a boy. He's going to be crushed." Her voice dropped into a flippant whisper. "It'll kill him."

Alec softened. Jace was their brother. Not only that, he was Alec's best friend. His _parabatai_. They were bonded in a similar, less sinister way than Jace and Jonathan. Alec would feel the hurt Jace did when he came home, and Eliza looked at him like a stranger.

And while this hurt him, he didn't want to risk her life at the expense of Jace's feelings. Jace didn't deserve it, but Eliza didn't deserve to have her life put at risk.

"Iz, we shouldn't mess with it. Magnus said the block was really strong. It needs to be left alone." She began to protest. "I know," he told her, "I want to fix it. I want her to remember him. And maybe one day she will. Or maybe he'll come back and she'll fall in love with him all over again."

Both of those were strong possibilities. Jace and Eliza were powerful apart, but together…they were almost unstoppable. Their love, tried and true, was stronger than death. If death couldn't keep them apart, Alec doubted a memory block would.

* * *

Jordan's truck was not at all like Luke's. And she knew, for the record, all cars were not the same. They were like people. You got out what you put it. Unfortunately, it seemed Jordan Kyle had not put a lot into his truck.

It was not a smooth ride. So, either Jordan neglected his vehicle, or Magnus was a dismal driver. With luck, it was probably both.

The poor quality of the ride was also attributed to the fact that there were five people crammed into the cab of the truck. Eliza was crammed in between Magnus and Alec. Simon was on Alec's other side, Isabelle on his lap.

If they got pulled over, they were screwed.

Conditions were crowded. Isabelle and Magnus were arguing over the latter's poor taste in road trip music. Cautiously, she put her head on Alec's shoulder.

He glanced down at her. "Tired?"

He had no idea.

She hadn't really slept during their proclaimed 'nap time'. She'd lain in bed, mind blank, but buzzing. It was the idea that very soon, all of it would come to an end. Jonathan would no longer be a threat. He would be dealt with, one way or another. Her father was dead. She had no more crazy family members to worry about. Dealing with her family was exhausting. Always worrying about what Jonathan was going to do, if he was going to hurt Clary, what he was planning.

Very soon, Eliza Morgenstern would be faced with the life of a normal Shadowhunter.

It was a peaceful thought for her to fall asleep to.

* * *

She dreamt of a boy who felt like the sun. He was Apollo, golden hair and brilliant eyes. A faint star scarred onto his left shoulder. A wickedly sinful smile that made her knees weak and her heart hammer. There could be no sun because _he_ was the sun. Her earth, she in herself, orbited him.

That she knew was wrong. People were not meant to revolve themselves around other people. But how could she not when a god himself stood before her?

She, it took too long for her to realize, was Icarus. Icarus in love. Icarus who fell for the boy made of sunlight. He who gave it all just to feel his fingertips graze the skin of a divine being. How could she not?

She jolted awake as her wax wings melted into her flesh. The burn was not so bad when weighed against the feeling of Heaven on her flesh.

"We're here." Alec said quietly as she rose up.

Indeed, they were. Magnus was already out of the truck. He asked if she slept well and she mumbled a yes.

"You were dreaming." He noted as Isabelle and Simon clambered from the truck. "Weren't you?"

She couldn't recall the last time she had dreamt. Possibly her last dream was the last one Lilith ever sent. Her darker side never dreamt.

"Only a little."

He raised an eyebrow. "What about?" She shrugged and moved to get out of the cab. Alec followed her lead. "You can tell me, Liz. You and I don't keep things from each other."

He was right. Alec had always been the one she was closest to. There was something she recognized in him upon their first meeting. Only now did she see that it was identity. Alec had hidden himself and his feelings from everyone. And so had she.

"I dreamt about the sun." She adjusted her weapons belt. "Not really. There was a boy. Apollo. The sun. That was the vibe. He was pure gold and sunlight and heaven. And I became Icarus. Dying just to feel the heat of his skin on my fingertips."

Alec's blue eyes were unreadable as he stared back at her. The corner of his mouth was quirked up a small bit.

She scratched the back of her neck. "I don't know. Do you ever feel like you're missing something? Like some part of your heart and soul has been carved out? But you don't remember. That's what I feel like. Like I'm missing something, some integral part of me. It feels like I've forgotten it, misplaced it, but I don't remember having it at all."

Alec put his arm around her shoulder. He pulled her in for a hug. "It's how I feel when I'm away from Magnus. Because I miss him."

Eliza snorted. "That's not helpful, Alexander. You have a boyfriend to long for. I do not." She stepped away from him. Her eyes narrowed as she looked forward, searching for the rest of their party. "Let's get this over with. Come on."

By the time they reached the farmhouse, everyone was ready to move again. Simon led them from the house to the orchard. Behind the apple trees was a glistening blue lake. Eliza closed her eyes, silencing the white noise of conversation.

 _The smooth slice of metal into, and out of, flesh._

 _The compact_ thud _of a body hitting ground._

 _Dirt and blood mixed in her mouth._

 _Her heart beating slower and slower and slower until…_

"Liz." Alec's hand was on her shoulder.

Her eyes flew open. "I'm okay." She said, not realizing he hadn't inquired on it.

"Good." He said slowly. "Are you worried about Simon?" She nodded. How could she not be? He was summoning the Angel. That was not allowed. "What else?" He asked.

Her eyes landed on Magnus. He was using a long rod to copy something from his spell book into the sand. "I don't think I should be here."

"Why not?"

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "What if the Angel sees me? Alec, he didn't think I was worthy of a second life. Who's to say I won't be the one he smites with heavenly fire?"

Alec's mouth downturned in a frown. "Liz, he _couldn't_ bring you back. I'm sure he would have if he'd been able to. He couldn't have refused Clary's wish."

Like he was a genie and not the Angel of Nephilim.

That didn't mean he wouldn't see her, recognize her for what she was (pure demon-blooded filth) and smite her to Edom. Or Hell. She wasn't sure where someone like her would end up. Definitely not Heaven, that was for sure.

"Simon, chop chop." Magnus cut through her silence.

He was talking quietly with Isabelle. Magnus was standing in the middle of his drawing. Two circles, a larger one that encompassed a smaller one. In the ring separating the two circles were several symbols she didn't recognize. The outlines of the circles glowed a faint light white, while the symbols were a bright and hazy blue.

Simon took his leave from Isabelle to join Magnus in the summoning circle. They were talking, Magnus handing Simon a slip of paper, but she couldn't hear them. Magnus walked away from him, joining at Alec's other side. He reached over and dropped something in Eliza's hand.

It was a thin golden ring. She slipped it on her finger and looked back to Simon.

He had to be nervous. It wasn't every day that someone summoned the Angel Raziel, especially a vampire. Or any Downworlder.

"Alec," Simon said thickly, "I think you're way better than Jace."

 _Jace_.

It came back. He was her dream. Apollo, the sun. That had been Jace. But why-?

"Magnus, your sense of style goes unmatched." Simon's voice cut through her thought. He was looking at her. "Eliza, you were always nice to me, even in the beginning. You risked your neck, literally, to save my life. Clary's lucky to have a sister like you. And…" he trailed, "everything's going to be okay. It will all work out." He turned his attention to Isabelle. All he said was her name before turning away.

Eliza moved behind Alec and Magnus to get to her. Wordlessly, she grabbed Isabelle's hand and held it in her own. "Come on." She whispered, hoping she wouldn't have to drag her back towards the house. Izzy went with her willingly, sparing a look back towards Simon as they re-entered the orchard. "He'll be okay." Eliza promised.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." Isabelle asked how she could possibly know something like that. "It's Simon, Izzy. He's not some silly mundane anymore. He's a vampire, the Daylighter. He's got the Mark of Cain. And he's killed two Greater Demons. That's more than us."

Just like she'd hoped, Isabelle smiled.

* * *

She absently twisted the ring around her finger over and over again. Simon, miraculously, had succeeded. His plan had worked. Raziel had given him Glorious, the sword of Michael himself. In return, Raziel had taken the Mark of Cain from Simon.

That didn't matter to her. What mattered was that they had a weapon to use against Jonathan. And they could save Jace Herondale.

 _The sun_.

She wished he would get out of her head, with his crooked, knowing smile, and bright eyes.

"Here." She dropped the ring into Simon's hand. "Magnus had me hold on to it. In case you died. But, you're not dead."

Simon put his ring back on. "Thanks?" Almost immediately after having the ring back on, Simon spoke, "You're kidding."

Eliza leaned closer to him. "Is that Clary?" He said yes. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Simon took off the ring. He handed it to her. She put it on.

 _Clary…?_

 _Liz?_

 _Oh, thank God! Are you all right? I'm so sorry I left you with-._

 _I'm fine. Jace has been keeping an eye on me. Some part of him still knows you care._

What was that supposed to mean? She didn't get the chance to ask.

 _I don't have a lot of time, Liz. Sebastian's plan is happening tonight. It's ten p.m. here._

Five hours ahead of New York. Still in Europe.

 _What is it? Do you know?_

 _He has a second Mortal Cup. He's going to raise Lilith and make an army. We're going to some place called the Seventh Sacred Site? It's some kind of doorway in a tomb where demons can be summoned._

She'd never heard of it. She'd have to ask Magnus.

 _Clary, you need to get out of there. As soon as possible._

 _I don't think I can._

Eliza groaned in frustration. _Fine, that's fine. Everything will be fine. I won't go into detail, but the Angel gave us a weapon. We can use it so sever Jonathan and Jace Herondale. It may kill Jonathan, though._

Not that she minded.

 _The Angel—_

Clary's thought didn't finish. Eliza felt something like panic rise up in her. But it wasn't hers to feel.

 _Clary? Clary?_

"Damn it!" She cursed aloud.

The other four were staring at her. Simon's dark eyes were curious, hastily so.

"We're low on time." She said quickly. Her eyes flitted to Magnus, mouth forming a word.

"I know, little dove." He said. "I heard it all."

The other three looked between them. Alec asked what the hell was going on. Eliza stared down at the ring for a long moment before meeting his blue steel gaze. "Jonathan's ready. It's happening tonight."

* * *

It was a ritual simple and sacred to her. The part before the battle. She wanted to be alone. Needed to be alone. The others were recruiting. They needed more than five people to take on whatever army Jonathan was planning. Seven, really, because she counted for two Shadowhunters.

Her hair was ceremoniously braided into two braids. White-blond hair roped and knotted in itself. Her gear fit a little tighter than normal.

Every part of her felt like it was burning. She wasn't nervous. No, she was ready. More than ever. This was the end. Maybe the end of the world. The end of her. The end of Jonathan Morgenstern.

That had to be the way it ended, with his death. Glorious being shoved through his heart the way Maellartach had been shoved through hers.

There were two knives secured in each brace on her wrists. Her short-sword, _Eosphoros_ , was on her back. She had four seraph blades on her weapons belt. Several smaller made _chakrams_ , for Hodge. Even if he had betrayed her. He hadn't deserved the death Jonathan bestowed upon him.

She had one goal. _Kill Jonathan_.

For that to occur, Simon had to use Glorious against him. Unless something went wrong and then she had free reign. Jonathan would die. Whether or not Jace Herondale's life was tied to his. After that, her next goal was to get Clary out of there.

Chairman Meow, poor little kitten, was curled up on her desk. His beady eyes watched her. "I have to go." She told him. "We'll come back." He rose, stretching out. Under him, she saw, was a piece of sketch paper. "What's that?" She asked him. She reached out and picked it up.

It was the paper she'd stolen from Jace Herodale's room at the Institute. She'd never gotten around to looking at it.

A phrase was scrawled onto the back-most fold, written in familiar writing.

 _L'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle_.

"The love that moves the sun and the other stars." She murmured. That struck, a feeling bubbled up in her stomach.

Her cell phone rang.

 **Let's go.**

With a frown, she put the piece of paper into her back pocket.

* * *

There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was unable to ascertain whether it was good or bad. All she knew was that it was the same ruinous feeling she'd gotten back in August. The night Clary got thrown into their world.

The Seventh Sacred Site was in Ireland. A desolate place. A tomb, like Clary had said. It stood on a hill. Two large stones that towered vertically, connected by one flat capstone. From where they were standing, she could see a large group of Shadowhunters congregated before the tomb. They wore the ceremonial red robes. There was a line formed. At the head of it, naturally, was her brother.

Jonathan shone like the moon. Pale silver-blond hair, pale skin. He too wore the ceremonial gear. In his hands, he held a black chalice.

His cup.

Their group wasn't as big as Jonathan's. Luke's pack, Maia and Jordan, Jocelyn, Maryse Lightwood and her two children, Simon, and Magnus. Two other Shadowhunters had accompanied them. Aline Penhallow and Helen Blackthorn.

Eliza felt acidic distaste when faced with Aline but had no idea why.

She pulled her sword from its sheath. Adrenaline buzzed in her veins.

And then, battle broke.

All around her, Shadowhunters fought against other Shadwhunters. Red clashed with black (at least it was easy to distinct enemy from friend).

One came towards her. Someone she'd never met. Someone she'd have no trouble killing at all. Except, this now was no normal Shadowhunter. He moved faster than her normal sparring opponents. He moved…like _her_.

He easily sidestepped the blow of her blade. "Won't be so easy to kill me, traitor." He seethed.

"Aw, you know me." She glowered. "Good." In his distracting trash talk, he'd forgotten who he was dealing with. In a quick motion, she slashed the sword. His head flew off, rolling somewhere in the mess of battle. The body collapsed.

Blood flecked her face.

Deep inside, she felt it take hold. The cold grasp of the darkness. The demon blood. Instead of pushing it away, she welcomed it. She'd need all the help she could get.

She looked around. Magnus and Isabelle were flanking Simon. He held Glorious tight in his hands as they cut a path through Jonathan's army.

 _Jonathan._

She had to find him. The army would be protecting him. And with him, would be Clary.

She wasted no time slicing her way through Jonathan's army. Sword in one hand, seraph blade in the other. Around her, red-clad Shadowhunters fell. Blood spattered her clothes and skin.

From behind, someone grabbed her. She jerked her sword backwards and felt it stick. She spun, faced with a female she didn't recognize.

"Morgenstern." The woman rasped.

"You bet your ass." Eliza snarled before jerking her sword out of the woman's chest. The woman fell to the ground. Eliza's hand shot out and she grabbed onto another in red. She couldn't place his name, but she recognized him from the Circle. One of her father's zealots determined to follow her brother. What a mistake. "You know me?" She asked.

"Your brother wants you dead." He had a knife.

She grabbed his wrist and held it out stiffly. And then she kicked up. The bone broke, a sickening _crack_ ringing in her ears. The knife flew up in the air. "Tell him I'm coming." She caught the knife as it came back down. She slashed the blade against his forehead. "Go." She shoved him away.

She powered on. Like her father had taught her, _Eosphoros_ became an extension of her arm. It moved as fluidly as she did. The seraph blade was lighter, easier to wield. It entered and exited a body at a faster rate.

Her hands were slick with blood. She saw it, a blur of bright red in the crowd. Not Jocelyn. _Clary_.

Eliza stuck the seraph blade back on her weapons belt. And she ran. "Clary!" She shouted. One of the dark Shadowhunters was headed right for her. Eliza took a _chakhram_ from her belt and let it fly. It stuck in the man's throat. He fell, his hand grazing Clary's shoulder. "Clary!"

She turned. Her face lit up. "Liz!"

They ran towards each other. Eliza engulfed her in a hug. "Thank God. I was worried sick." She pulled away. Clary had a dark liquid tinged on her bottom lip. "What is that?" Eliza wiped it away.

"Blood. Lilith's." She spit on the ground. "Sebastian is making them drink it. It turns them evil."

That's why they were so fast. The blood of a Greater Demon was running through their veins. Just like her.

Her sense heightened. Her skin went hot. Her head jerked up and Eliza saw someone running towards them. Golden curls of hair.

The sun.

Jace.

Eliza pushed Clary behind her. She saw behind Jace was Jonathan.

Someone jostled into Clary. Simon. He held Glorious in his hand. "Give it." Clary outstretched her hand. And he did.

Clary looked at Eliza. "Get Jonathan. I'll take care of Herondale." Clary frowned at her. Eliza balanced her sword as they drew nearer. "If you can't separate them, I won't hesitate to drive my sword through Jace Herondale's heart."

"Liz, you can-."

"I can. And I will."

* * *

Jace Herondale drew upon the two sisters, a beacon of sunlight amidst a battle of blood. The ceremonial red of his gear complemented his skin. And she hated to admit that, when she was so ready to end his life.

"Lizzie?" Her name, a pet name that no one seemed to call her, but that brought about unknown feelings of happiness, sounded so perfect coming from him.

She held the sword at level with his chest. "Don't come any closer. I don't want to hurt you."

But she would. Oh, she knew she would.

He stared back at her with eyes that encompassed her entire self. He seemed to know her and not recognize her all at the same time. His face was streaked with blood, some of it appearing to be his. "You won't." He said carefully. "Jonathan said-."

"My brother doesn't know me like he believes." She snapped.

Clary grabbed her wrist. "It's not really him, Liz." She said quietly. "It's not Jace. Not _your_ Jace."

 _Hers_?

"You can't do it." Jace Herondale seemed to taunt her.

She stepped forward, her sword not wavering. "You don't know what I can do."

"Liz, it's not him." Clary said from behind her. "Jace, the real Jace, would rather die than be tied to Sebastian."

She didn't care about the real Jace. She only cared about the one standing in front of her.

"They said you were made of angels. I wonder if you bleed like them."

He put his hands up. "Lizzie, put the sword down. You and I both know you won't kill me."

She raised an eyebrow. He sounded so sure of her. Like he knew her. Every little bit of her. "What makes you say that?"

He smiled. It was nothing like the smile she had seen in photographs or even conjured up in her mind. This was a smile void of any real feeling. It was as fake as any smile Jonathan ever used.

Whoever this Jace boy had been before was gone. That boy had been replaced by someone Jonathan had molded into his foot soldier.

"Because you love me. You still love me, don't you?" He took a tentative step towards her.

Slowly, she twisted the sword in her hand. "I don't even _know_ you." She spat. "It's not hard to kill someone you don't know. Wanna see?" The green of her eyes had faded. The only thing separating the iris from the pupil was a thin silver line. She didn't take her eyes off him but motioned for Clary to go on. "Find Jonathan. Separate them before I shove this thing through Herondale's heart."

"Liz-."

"I said _go, Clary!_ "

"No!" Jace moved towards Clary.

She shoved Clary backwards, Glorious falling from her hand. Eliza reached and grabbed him by the shoulder. She shoved him backwards. "Stay away from my sister!" She slashed recklessly with the sword, the blade slicing into his shoulder.

He stared at her, there was a flatness to the shock in his eyes. He had truly believed she wouldn't hurt him.

She looked around. Jonathan was nowhere to be seen. There was a strong possibility he had fled. They'd never get the chance again, not to separate them. Not to stop him.

The decision was made.

Jace Herondale was going to die.

He barreled into her, knocking her to the ground. The sword flew from her hand. Her head banged against rough earth. His hand wrapped around her wrist, knees pinned against her torso. "Don't make me fight you, Lizzie."

"Please." She grunted. "I'd hardly call this a fight." She reared her head up and slammed her forehead into his. He fell back and she pushed herself up.

Her head was spinning. Her vision blurred. Dizzily, she reached and picked up her sword. Jace was picking himself up from the ground.

Her sword seemed to glow in her dizziness, a bright golden light that stung, making her eyes water.

"Eliza, what are you doing?" He took a slow step away from her. "Stop. Please, Liz, don't." But each word, each plea sounded flat. "Give me the sword. I know you won't do it, so just stop being foolish and hand it over."

She blinked, drawing to a stop just inches away from him. He really was handsome. "Fine." She said coolly. "Here."

 _Never offer a sword blade first. Unless you're going for the kill_. Lesson twenty-two.

Jace began to reach. In his hesitant movement, she moved faster than any normal Shadowhunter could. Too fast for him to process.

The sword went in, plunging deep into his chest. They were nose to nose, her knuckles pressed against his chest. His blood was pumping over her hand.

Somewhere, someone screamed.

 _Jonathan_ , she realized blissfully before something seized in her chest.

The _parabatai_ rune on her neck burned. Her chest was ripping apart. She bit down to keep from screaming.

Jace Herondale was still looking down at her. His face, bloodied and beaten, was a picture of peace. His eyes were a bright gold. The same light in his eyes seemed to play under his skin.

Through tears, she looked down. The hilt of the sword had no glittering rubies. It was bare.

"Glorious." She murmured just as his skin engulfed in flames.

The pain in her chest became too much. Just as she resigned to it, something like lightning shot through her arm, forcing her back. Her head smacked against something hard and the world went black.

* * *

When she came to, her mother was standing over her. "Eliza, thank God."

She groaned as Jocelyn helped her to her feet. The back of her head was sore. Beneath her, the rock on which she had hit her head was stained with blood. She felt the back of her head. No blood. But it was in her hair.

"A few _iratze_." Her mother whispered.

Everyone else was silent. Clary was staring up at her from the ground. Simon was holding Isabelle, who seemed still as a statue. Magnus held Alec in a similar manner.

"What's wrong?" She asked her mother. "Who die-?"

The word fell flat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. She saw _him_.

Slowly, she turned to face the body on the ground. Ash covered him, mixed in with blood. The sword was gone, leaving an empty place in his chest. Blood, so much blood. He looked the same, but so different.

"Honey?" Jocelyn's voice was barely a whisper.

Eliza couldn't take her eyes off him. Just laying there.

"Oh, God." She felt her knees start to give. "Oh, my God."

Her heart felt as if it was being squeezed by a python. Her steps were sluggish as she walked closer to him.

"Jace?" She whispered. "Jace?" She waited for a reply that she knew wouldn't come. Her knees gave. She fell next to him, finding it all too hard to breathe. "What did I do?" Her hands grabbed at him, pulling him into her lap. "No, no, no. Please, God, no."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way." Magnus whispered. "It was to wear off the moment they were separated." He told them. Isabelle bit back angrily that his spell had worked. "She wasn't supposed to hurt him. I never planned on her getting close enough for it. It wasn't…This wasn't what I intended."

Her head hurt. Everything hurt.

"Liz, honey." Jocelyn spoke tentatively. "He's dea-."

"NO!" She screamed at her. Harder, she held him to her. He couldn't be. It was Jace. Her Jace. That wasn't how the sword worked. It was meant to sever him from Jonathan, burn the evil from him. Jace wasn't evil. He was good. He was so good. "He's not dead." She said resolutely. "He can't be." She pushed his hair from his face. "Come back to me, baby. Please come back." She begged quietly. " _L'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle_. Remember? Stronger than death."

Clary asked about Jonathan, to which Jocelyn replied they were searching for him.

"Eliza…" Magnus' voice seemed far away. Her eyes lifted and met his gaze. "Little dove-."

"Can you fix him?" She asked in a small, childlike voice. "Wake him up?"

His eyes saddened. "No, little dove. There's no waking up from the eternal sleep."

He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead.

She hadn't- she had wanted to kill him. And she did it. But this, this was wrong. She'd been wrong. That version of her, the version that had never known him, was wrong.

Jocelyn had been right. Eliza had loved Jace far too much. And it had hurt them both. It had hurt everyone around them. It had killed him.

"I'm sorry." She rapidly blinked away the tears. "I'm so sorry." He remained still. She knew he wasn't coming back, not this time. There were no third chances at life. "I love you." She leaned down, her lips brushing against his cold ones. She drew away. "More than an angel loves the heavens."

His eyelashes fluttered against his cheek.

She jerked back, so sure she was seeing things. Her grief was driving her mad. But that didn't stop her hand from ripping open the gear and pressing down on his chest. Faintly, barely there, but it was _there_.

The beat of his heart.

* * *

Jace was awake. That much she knew. He was awake and she wasn't allowed to see him. The Silent Brothers were examining him. Izzy had said something about him glowing, whatever that meant. So, mostly, he was being examined. She thought part of it had to do with the whole fact that she nearly killed him. She hadn't been the first Morgenstern to shove a sword through Jace's heart.

She hoped she was the last.

Staying at Magnus' had been a given. No one in the Clave wanted her near the Institute. Which made her think another, more serious trial, laid in her path.

That was all fine and dandy as long as she got to see Jace. She'd spent too long not knowing him, not loving him. And then tried to kill him.

Maybe he didn't want to see her. That was a possibility. She'd gone full Morgenstern on him. She didn't blame him if that was the case.

Her phone was ringing somewhere amidst the blankets on her bed. She dug around for a bit before finding it. Her mom?

"Hello?"

"Eliza, it's your mother."

"Yeah, Caller ID is a real treasure." She said dryly. "Something wrong?"

Jocelyn laughed quietly. "It's not good that we always ask if something is wrong when answering the phone." She didn't reply. "But, yes. Something is wrong."

"What? Is it Jace?"

Her heart hammered in her chest.

"Yes. Kind of. Do you remember that long talk we had? About how much you loved him?" How could she not? It had driven her to make the worst mistake of her life. "I was wrong, Eliza. It's not bad that you love him so much. It's good, it means you're human. Even when you took it away, that love came back to you. You were right, it's a love stronger than death."

She wasn't exactly sure where the conversation was headed. Was this Jocelyn's mild attempt at taking responsibility for Eliza's actions? Eliza wasn't yet eighteen, therefore still a child by Covenant.

"It's also a love that's a hell of a lot stronger than some Clave members and Silent Brothers." Jocelyn added.

"What?"

"Don't let anything keep you from him anymore. If you want to see him, do it."

"Aren't you supposed to deter me from sneaking off to see my boyfriend?"

"I'll let it slide this once."

Eliza grinned, hanging up the phone. God, now she had to find something to wear.

The infirmary loomed before her. Before she could get in, though, she had to get through the Silent Brother guarding the door.

She looked down at the piece of sketch paper in her hand. It was dotted with dried blood. She slipped it into the pocket of her jacket.

 _Miss Morgenstern._ The Silent Brother turned toward her. Upon a look, she realized she knew this one. Brother Zachariah. He wasn't as disfigured as the others. Or as stoically creepy. _I know why you are here._

"Not to kill him." She joked icily. "I'd like to talk to him." She paused. "Alone."

 _When we met last, you did not seem to recall Jonathan Herondale. Your memory of him was blank. But now, it is full once again._

She grimaced at him. "I made a mistake. I was trying to protect my sister. And save the world." Only one of which she actually accomplished.

No one knew where Jonathan was. He was gone. Not dead but gone. She knew, deep down, he'd be back.

 _You made a difficult decision. Perhaps you chose wrong. Perhaps you didn't. It shows great promise that you were willing to sacrifice your love for our world._

"It's what any other Shadowhunter would do." That was part of the job. Making the hard choice. Cutting the rope and losing two people to save five others.

 _No, it is not._

She eyed him. Slowly, he stepped aside, leaving the door accessible to her.

 _We all make drastic decisions for the ones we love most._

At that, she stepped inside.

The infirmary was empty, save for the boy occupying the most stocked bed in the room. He had swiped pillows from the other beds, using them to prop himself up. He looked up at the sound of the door closing.

Their eyes met.

"Hi." She half-smiled.

He sat up. "They let you in?" Surprise edged his words.

"I think they know better than to cross me." She laughed in a hollow manner. It was meant to lighten the mood, but it seemed to stiffen in even more. "Jace-."

"Liz-."

They looked at one another, ghosts of smiles on their faces. He nodded, telling her to go first. "I'm sorry." It was all she could think of. "For everything. All of it. Everything that's happened since the day we met. Every lie, every single thing I've done wrong. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry that I hurt you. For erasing you completely. For- well, for almost killing you."

"You're sorry."

"Yes." She nodded sharply. "And- and I came to tell you that this is it. For us. I think it's best that-."

He cut her off. "You're breaking up with me?" Quietly, she said yes. "You nearly killed me and now you're breaking up with me?"

She sat down on the edge of his bed. "It's for the best. I thought about it the whole way here and I'm the reason all this stuff happened to you. If I'd never let you love me, you never would have been pulled into the mess with my father, so you never would have died, or been tied to Jonathan. We wouldn't be here. You're better off without me."

He leaned forward. He seemed good as new. The same old Jace. "Let me love you? Did you ever think that was what I wanted? Besides, I don't think either of us had much choice in the matter. We're meant to be."

It was the cheesiest thing she'd ever heard him say. Mostly, he sounded so romantic and lyrical when he rambled on about their love. This sounded like something ripped straight off a coffee mug.

"You're not allowed to break up with me." He said finitely.

"Is that so?"

He drew closer. His breath was hot on her face. His hand fell over hers, his other rising to cup her cheek. "You've saved me in more ways than one, Eliza Morgenstern." Electricity buzzed over her skin. "Hell and high water, right?"

She laughed breathily. "Hell and high water." She hadn't noticed the glow of his skin until then. A light shimmer of gold beneath the surface. "Apollo." She murmured.

"Huh?"

She shook her head, saying it was a dream she'd had. Then, he was kissing her. It was unsure, an improper calculation of his lips on hers. She grabbed onto his neck, the skin hot under her hands. Not warm. _Hot._

She drew back, shaking her hands out. "Are you running a fever?"

Grinning, he said no. "I'm just so hot for you, Liz." He could be so crude at times. "Not that I wasn't telling the truth, but there is a problem." She asked what that was. His fingers danced with the hem of her dress. The lightness of his fingertips tickled her thigh and she shuddered. "Glorious, Michael's sword that Raziel gave you, was made of Heavenly fire. When you stabbed me, the sword returned to Michael. But the fire, it's still inside me."

He lifted his hands, palms up, for her to see. At first, they were normal. And then they turned transparent. She could see the bones in his hand, the connection of tendons and muscles. The faint glow burned brighter, the color of fire. Just like Glorious had.

"I always said you were hot." Eliza smirked at him.

Jace rolled his eyes. She asked what the Silent Brothers had said about his situation. "They don't. really know anything. They've never seen something like this before." His fingers went back to her dress. "You know how I feel about dresses."

She smiled again. "I know. I was kind of hoping you'd see me in it and convince me not to break up with you."

"Consider me thoroughly convinced." His words were thick. "Can you put on some sweats or something? You in a dress…"

She closed the gap between them, kissing him urgently. His hand grasped her thigh, squeezing the soft skin. "I missed you."

His hand was hot. He jerked away. "We can't. I could hurt you." She said she was pretty sure he owed her some pain, considering the stabbing thing. "Seriously, Liz, I don't want to hurt you."

She pulled away. "Jace, do you…" she needed the right words, "do you remember when it was the three of us at first? Me, you, and Jonathan. Do you remember anything…?"

"Everything. It's like a bad dream, but I remember all of it."

She nodded slowly. She had hoped he wouldn't remember anything. She'd wanted their first time to be something special, something real. But the influence of darkness had fucked that over.

He grabbed onto her hand. "I know what you're thinking." He told her. "I wish it had been different. I wish it had really been _me_ instead of that version of myself. I'm jealous of that."

He was jealous of himself for having sex with her? It was something she could understand because the darker version of her had gotten to experience that. But did that mean it didn't count? It had been darker versions of both of them. Now, that version of Jace was gone and hers would never see the light of day again.

Until it came time to kill Jonathan once and for all.

"I say we call a re-do." She decided. "Cancel all that out. It never happened."

"Really?"

"Mhmm. We'll start fresh once you can control your…burning desire for me."

Jace grinned and pulled her close, holding her to his chest. He kissed her temple and entwined their hands. "Babe, I will _always_ be burning with desire for you. Even when we're old and gray."

"That's what I like to hear."

He pulled something from his pocket and dropped it in her hand. It was the Morgenstern ring. It had once been his, but he'd given it to her. "Figured that you'd want it back."

She slipped it on her finger. "It'll do. Until you give me a new one." She sighed, leaning against him again.

"A new one, huh?"

She said yes. "A Herondale one. Or a Lightwood, whatever you're going by. Temporary, of course."

He knew exactly what she meant. He kissed her again, on the cheek. And the nose. And her other cheek. And her forehead. "I love you."

She turned so she could look in his eyes. The gold seemed to move, having a life of its own. She stroked his cheek. Remembering the piece of paper in her pocket, she took it out. Jace stiffened at the sight of the blood on the paper.

She unfolded it, revealing the picture of them Clary had sketched in the park only a few weeks ago. Jace was asleep in her lap, his arms around her legs. Clary had captured perfectly the adoration with which Eliza looked down at him. In fact, there was so much that a picture couldn't tell (the way in which they were so comfortable with one another, how they molded together) that Clary had managed to portray.

"Where'd you get that?" Jace breathed.

She leaned against him, looking down at the sketch. "I took it from your room at the Institute, when I was…"

"When you forgot me?" He supplied.

Ashamed, she said that was right. "I never opened it. But I kept it with me, something told me I needed it. It was in my back pocket, during the battle at the Burren in Ireland." She explained to him. She wanted to know if, had she opened it then, before knowing him again, would everything have come back? Or would she have been just as confused? "Even then, when I didn't know you in my head, I knew you in my heart. In my soul." She said very softly, looking at him through her eyelashes. "You're a part of me, Jace. Always and forever."


	44. Chapter 44

City of Heavenly Fire

Chapter Forty-Four

December

 _Magnus? Come on, I know you can hear me._

Eliza, along with everyone else, was being cold-shouldered. She didn't blame him. Breaking up was hard enough without being tied to all of their friends. It was easiest to cut them all out of his life.

That particular stipulation had been hardest on her. She'd known Magnus longer than the others had. Without him, she would have been up the creek without a paddle. Several times. Magnus Bane was her savior. Her best friend. And now, she was nothing to him.

She'd come home after seeing Jace to a cold and silent apartment. All the lights had been off.

"Magnus? I'm home! Good news!"

He had appeared, swathed in a black robe. His dark hair was flat, eyes hollow.

"What's wrong?" She dropped her purse.

He pulled the robe tighter. "I broke up with Alexander." The story unfolded quickly. Alec had lied, sought out Camille, and had actually considered turning Magnus mortal. It was an unforgivable offense.

She crossed the room, enveloping him in her arms. "I'm so sorry." He let her hold him for a brief few seconds before stepping away from her. "What can I do?"

His yellow-green cat eyes swallowed her. In that moment, she knew whatever he was about to say, she wouldn't like it very much. "I need you to move out."

She hadn't been able to find a word to respond with. They stared at one another for a few minutes in uncomfortable silence.

"You remind me of him. And I know when Jace is here, it will get worse. Especially with your feelings bouncing around. I can't deal with that."

She understood that. All too well. But she hated the feeling that she was losing her best friend.

In the end, she'd hastily agreed to move out. But almost all of her thing were at Magnus'. Clothes, the little bits of makeup she owned, weapons, books. Her room at the Institute was barren.

Magnus' last gift of magic to her was a snap of his fingers, transporting all her stuff to her room at the Institute.

She hadn't seen him since.

* * *

Her mother wasn't very keen on Eliza residing at the Institute. After all, her boyfriend lived there. But what was she to do? Magnus had practically kicked her out and there wasn't another room in Luke's house.

Of course, Maryse promised to keep a watchful eye on them. Which wasn't working. One would sneak into the other's room after she'd gone to bed and be back in their own room before she woke the next morning.

She flipped a page in her book, smiling to herself as Jace critiqued Jordan's meditation technique.

Alec and Izzy were a few feet away from her, talking quietly on top of a cluster of large rocks. Jace's meditation wasn't mandatory, just strongly encouraged by his girlfriend. Jordan meditated to calm down the inner wolf (his words, not hers). The idea had been Simon's and upon hearing it, Clary suggested it to Eliza, who all but forced Jace to ask for Jordan's help.

His only condition was that she attend all sessions. They were two sessions in. The first had been…entertaining, to say the least. The heavenly fire heightened everything about Jace. He was never truly calm and any spike in adrenaline sent it over the edge. During the first session, he'd gotten so heated (literally) he'd burnt the floor.

All sessions were to now take place out of doors.

Which was how she ended up on a blanket in Central Park. A wooly coat was pulled around her, a scarf tied round her neck, a pair of knit gloves covering her hands from the cold. She even had another blanket thrown over her legs. Adjusting her book, she glanced over at Jace and Jordan.

Her boyfriend, not paying attention to instruction, was already staring at her.

She smiled and pointed at Jordan. _Stay focused_ , her gesture indicated. He sent her a wink and turned his attention back to Jordan.

"Dude," Jordan groaned, "could you pay attention for longer than five seconds?"

Jace chuckled. "Sorry, man. I can't help that my girlfriend looks good."

He caught her eye as she looked over at him. He graced her with a dazzling smile. "Jordan," Eliza said, "you have my full permission to smack him."

Jace huffed, turning away from her.

"Next time." Jordan promised. He stood up, brushing dried grass from the back of his jeans. "I've got to meet Maia."

As Jace stood up, Simon and Clary entered the clearing. Clary was laughing at something he'd said, her head thrown back with a smile on her face.

Jordan gave Jace a stern look. "Practice the whole 'peace' thing for next time. No weapons or killing or demon talk."

Jace rolled his eyes and said he'd work on it. Jordan waved goodbye to Alec and Isabelle and said something to Simon in passing as he left.

Jace made his way over to Eliza. He knelt beside her, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "How's the book?"

She shrugged, closing it. "I'm sure it'll pick up." She laid it down on the blanket as he situated himself beside her. She gave him some of her blanket and scooted closer to him. He'd always been warm before, but the presence of the heavenly fire in his body kept his skin hot at all times. It felt good in the cold air of December. Even though the sun had managed an appearance, it wasn't doing a very good job of providing warmth. "You should really start listening to Jordan. He knows what he's talking about."

He picked up her hands, holding them inside his to warm them up. "If you weren't so distracting, I'd be fine."

"Distracting? I'm reading a book, making absolutely no noise!"

He grinned, kissing the backs of both her hands. "And you look beautiful doing it." She rolled her eyes. He was once again trying to use his charm to get out of something. "Seriously. You look like something from a painting, sitting here all bundled up with your book. I can't help but stare."

"Creep." She muttered, even though she was flattered. "I can stop coming, if it'll help you focus." It would be best to stop attending. Anything to keep him from bursting into flames.

He shook his head. "Then I'll just be worried about you. I promise I'll do better."

"Only if you promise." She agreed.

"I _swear_." He dropped her hands and gently cupped her chin, turning her face towards his. "Seal it with a kiss?" His hand was warm on the chill of her skin.

He really was corny. Kissing was now a carefully constructed art between them. An action that had once been passionate, heavy, and heated had been slowed to something quick and precisely managed. They both suffered, but Jace was adamant about not setting her on fire. Which she greatly appreciated, but she missed the time when they'd spent hours kissing. They'd had sex, but she didn't like dwelling on that. They'd both been under demonic influence and had agreed those times did not count.

But it was hard to forget.

Jace sealed his promise with a chaste kiss on her lips. His hand trailed down to her neck, pulling her closer. The moment he tried to deepen the kiss, a buzz of electric shock shot between them.

"Shit." She muttered, pulling away. She gingerly touched her lips. Jace was staring at her with a dejected face. She let her hand fall. "It's fine. It didn't hurt." She assured him. "Just shocked me is all." Her pun did not earn a laugh.

"I'm still working on the whole self-control thing." He told her. "Maybe we shouldn't kiss for a while. Until I have it under control."

Now that was a ridiculous thought. Who knew how long that would take? She had already spent too much time not being able to kiss him in the past. A little static shock wasn't going to stop her. "Jace, you are not going to set me on fire from a kiss. Besides, if it gets too much, I'll just jump in the pond."

That joke didn't earn a laugh, either. "You know what Clary said about the sword and the heavenly fire. It could really hurt you." _It could kill you._ He didn't have to say it for her to know he was thinking it.

 _If there's more Heaven than Hell. If not…._

That's what Clary had relayed to them from Simon. The Angel himself had spoken the words. They were really about Jonathan, but that meant it applied to her as well. She wasn't really worried. She was more human than Jonathan would ever be. Surely, she'd be fine. It wouldn't kill her, just burn out the demon blood. And that wouldn't be a terrible thing.

Jace was not willing to take the chance, not even a little it seemed. Too much had happened to her as far as demonic forces went for him to even consider putting her in that kind of danger.

"I know." She mumbled. He gave her a sympathetic smile. He glanced behind them. Their friends were watching.

"Come on. Before they start recording." Jace stood up and pulled her to her feet. She left the blanket behind as they walked over to join their friends.

Alec was staring intensely at his phone. Jace sat down next to him, extending his arm so Eliza could lean into his side.

"What are you doing?" Eliza asked him pointedly. Her eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

He said nothing, a little too quickly for her pleasure. Isabelle tore her attention from Simon. "Texting Magnus."

Jace looked at his phone over Alec's shoulder. His eyebrows shot up. "Not just texting, I see. You've been calling too."

Alec put his phone in his pocket, giving his sister and _parabatai_ evil looks. He bit down on his chapped lip. A piece of the skin had torn, leaving a small spot of dried blood. "Today's his birthday." He told them. "I wanted him to know I didn't forget." His voice was small, a little broken.

Eliza's chest tightened. One, she hadn't known it was Magnus' birthday. Two, the situation was impossible. She'd known Alec before she had Magnus, but she'd known Magnus longer than Alec had. She had resolutely decided not to take sides. Which was increasingly difficult considering Alec was the only one speaking to her.

 _Happy birthday, Magnus_ , she tried again to reach out. She knew she wouldn't get a response.

"I pity your broken-hearted state of pining." Jace said. "It's sad."

Both Alec and Isabelle turned to him with surprised faces. Eliza raised her eyebrows at him. Clary wore a knowing smile. Simon seemed unfazed by Jace's declaration.

Alec rolled his eyes. "You have _no_ room to talk, Jace." He told him. "You were way worse than me." Jace said he had absolutely no idea what Alec was talking about. Alec looked at Eliza and she shrugged. "Don't play dumb. 'Ugh, I hate her, why is she so stubborn. I think I'm in love with her, why won't she talk to me? Oh my, God, she kissed me! Oh, she's my sister, wait am I in love with my sister? What does Declan have-." Alec's verse on Jace's own pining took a sudden stop.

Eliza had visibly stiffened, her gaze locked on a tree. Jace was watching Eliza with careful eyes. They had never brought up the incident. Declan Kensley's name was never mentioned. It was too hard for Eliza to admit what Jace had done, to acknowledge that he could kill someone considered a friend. Someone she cared about.

Jace was too willing to admit it. He wanted the punishment for it. A punishment no one was willing to put on his shoulders because it "hadn't been him." Jonathan's control and influence on him had been the reason.

So, it went without mention. The only person outside of their little circle who was aware of the situation was Raphael. And he was sworn to secrecy.

"I'm sorry." Alec mumbled.

Eliza's eyes fell on him. There was a brief second of tense silence before she laid her head on Jace's shoulder. "It's okay, babe." She giggled. "I pined after you too."

Jace smiled meekly. The air around them felt stale. Alec glanced down at his phone, eyebrows drawn together in frustration. "All right, Alexander, hand it over." Jace held out his hand.

"What? No." Alec shook his head.

Eliza leaned forward and grabbed the phone from him. Jace had been right. Alec had called and texted Magnus several times. "Oh, Alec." She sighed quietly. Watching him suffer silently had been miserable enough. To see his vain efforts displayed so clearly was heartbreaking.

Jace grew closer to her. He was reading over the latest message. Not a birthday message at all. "Let me see." He said.

She handed him the phone. Hopefully, he'd delete Magnus' number and that would be that. But no, Jace always had to go the extra mile. He held Alec's phone open and bent the upper half back to the point it broke apart. He let the two pieces fall.

"Jace!" Eliza chastised loudly.

Alec's eyes traveled from his phone, to Jace, and back to the phone before he rested his murderous gaze on his _parabatai_. "Seriously? What the hell?"

Jace seemed very casual about the whole ordeal. "I'm your best friend, your brother, and your _parabatai_ , therefore I cannot let you succumb to this. It's a rule, I'm not allowed to let you keep calling your ex-boyfriend."

"And that meant breaking my phone?" Alec's voice thundered. "It was brand-new."

Jace shrugged, leaning back on the rock. Isabelle said there was a bright side to it. Their mother wouldn't be able to try to contact him anymore. Simon asked why they were avoiding her, as Isabelle had mentioned she'd turned her phone off to evade Maryse's many texts and calls. "Usual post-battle stuff, but way more intense." Isabelle said off-handedly. "The Clave won't let anything fly by on this. They want to know exactly what went down at the Burren. Why Eliza stabbed Jace, how he's practically made of heavenly fire now. What the Dark Shadowhunters looked like, did we recognize any of them, what did their runes and weapons look like. And the Infernal Cup." She made a remark about phone sex that made Simon look away.

The Infernal Cup. That was what they were calling it. A near exact replica of the Angel's Cup. Except it was black and demonically powered. By Lilith and her gross blood. No one knew where Jonathan had run off to with the cup during the battle. They only knew that he was on the run. And apparently, he was coming.

So said the grisly message he had left at the Institute. The wing of an angel, cut and torn, coated in thick, golden blood. He'd even been kind enough to leave a note: _Erchomai._

I am coming.

When he did, they'd be ready.

* * *

She was alone.

Jace had gone on some mission to convince Magnus to take Alec back. Isabelle and Alec were at a meeting at the Institute, to which she did not want to attend.

Clary and Simon were out Christmas shopping, something she was not allowed to attend because her gift was one being bought. In fact, no one but the two of them were allowed to go, as they were buying everyone's gifts. In truth, she hadn't wanted to go anyway because she didn't know how to celebrate Christmas.

Her father had not been too keen on celebrating holidays. He thought they were trivial and mundane. They hardly observed the day when Jonathan Shadowhunter had been gifted the Mortal Instruments from the Angel Raziel. That day always earned a small dinner and a speech from Valentine about the importance of his mission, how vital it was to reveal the corrupt nature of the Clave. Birthdays were the allowance. It was easy, there was only one day to celebrate since she and Jonathan shared a birthday.

His gifts had been practical and disturbing. Hugin and Munin, knives. The short-swords.

Now, she was expected to celebrate Christmas.

That seemed like a lot to ask of her.

The Lightwoods weren't planning a Christmas party at the Institute. After everything that happened in the past few months, and Max's death, they weren't in the mood to plan anything.

Alec appeared in the doorway of her room.

"Alexander, I'm honored for the appearance." She drawled, sitting up in her bed. Her book was boring her, and she really was thankful for his arrival. But the grim look on his face said she should not be. "What happened?"

"You're being summoned. You're needed. Or wanted, I'm not sure. They told me to come get you."

She hastily removed herself from the comfort of her bed. She didn't like the sound of being summoned by the Conclave. That usually meant bad news.

If they kicked her out the Institute, where the hell was she supposed to stay? She couldn't exactly get her own place to live. She didn't have any money.

She slipped on a pair of boots and let Alec lead the way. He remained silent, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Eliza, so carelessly, slipped her hand in his and gave it a small squeeze. It was a simple action, something she'd done with Isabelle and Clary, probably even Simon, before. He looked down at her, but she was staring ahead.

"I miss him." He said in a deadly quiet voice.

"I know."

He led her to the library. From outside the cracked door, she heard the flow of voices. It was more than a few.

Alec went to push open the door, but she jerked him back. "What am I walking into, Alec?" She whispered. "What didn't you tell me?"

"There was an attack on the Clave."

He said nothing else before opening the door.

Heads whipped around and several pairs of eyes landed on her. She knew exactly what they saw when they looked at her. Who they saw.

"The sins of the father." She muttered. And now, the brother.

The first face she landed on was her mother's. Clary was next to her and Luke on her other side. The largest part of the library had been cleared to make room for a large circular table. Members of the Conclave occupied the seats surrounding the table. Eliza didn't know many of the members by name.

Maryse Lightwood was standing at what could be considering the head of the table. Her steel gaze landed on Alec and Eliza. "Thank you, Alexander." Alec nodded. "Eliza, have you received any contact from your brother?"

Her mouth parted. All she could do was stare back at Maryse. "N-No." She stammered. She regained herself and straightened her shoulders. "What has he done?"

"Sebastian Morgenstern has attacked six of our Institutes. Bangkok, Los Angeles, Berlin, Moscow, and more. He left no survivors until the most recent on Los Angeles. Only the Blackthorn children managed to get out alive." Maryse explained to her.

Eliza crossed her arms over her chest. "And someone thinks I helped him." She said bluntly.

"No one said that." Maryse said quickly.

That didn't mean they weren't thinking it.

No matter how many times she explained the raw hatred for her brother, someone was always going to doubt her.

"He wasn't alone." Her attention snapped from Maryse to the side of the room. She hadn't noticed Jace sitting in the chair against the wall. He gave her a reassuring smile. "The Endarkened were with him."

His demonic Shadowhunters. Jonathan was powerful, he was strong, but not strong enough to attack six Institutes on his own. He would have needed help, some kind of upper hand. The Endarkened provided that. With Lilith's blood, they were stronger than normal Shadowhunters. Faster. More dangerous.

"We didn't expect this." Maryse told them. "We expected an attack on Alicante. Not the slaughter of innocent Shadowhunters."

"I told you." Jace said in a low voice. "I told you he would do exactly what you didn't expect." He stood up and crossed the room to stand by Eliza. He wrapped his arm around her waist. "So, what now? Has the Clave called another meeting?"

Maryse, in a sharp voice, said no. There was not another meeting. "We've been ordered to evacuate the Institute immediately. All Institutes are being evacuated, every Shadowhunter is being called back to Idris." She looked around the room. "The Clave will be doubling the wards around the home country. After tomorrow, no one will be able to enter or leave Idris."

From the furthest part of the table, Isabelle made eye contact with her mother. She asked when they had to leave.

"Tonight."

* * *

"All packed?" Jace was standing in the doorway of her room. For once, the room looked impeccably clean.

She'd had to spend an hour putting all her belongings in their proper places before tearing through to decide what should go and what could stay behind. She knew that she'd be coming back, but the problem was figuring out _when_ that would be.

In the end, only half her closet was making the trip. If she needed more clothes, she could always buy them. All of her knives were folded into her clothes, her sword tucked into the folds of her favorite white dress.

"I suppose." She huffed. Both her bags were already taken away, waiting for her to follow. She fell back on the bed. Something squalled from under the pillow where her head landed. Church darted out from under the pillow, sending her a glowering look. "Oh, don't be like that. Come here, handsome."

At the same time Church hopped over onto her stomach, Jace launched himself on the bed, landing next to her.

"I meant the cat." She laughed at him as she scratched Church's back. Jace rolled his eyes and made a comment about her liking the cat more than him. "Well, he was my first friend here." She teased, but her smile had faltered. She turned to face the ceiling.

"What are you thinking?" He murmured. His hand reached and he twirled a piece of hair around his finger.

Her face turned and her eyes fell on him. "I don't want to go." She sighed, letting Church go. He nestled a spot between them, resting his head in Eliza's open palm. "I know we have to, but I don't want to."

"Idris is home." Jace reminded her.

It was a good place, a home for all Shadowhunters. But not her. She'd lived there for seventeen years and never felt the way she did when she was in New York. In the greenhouse among the morning glories, curled on the couch with Magnus watching trashy reality television, eating dinner with her family at Luke's.

Idris was full of memories that left a foul taste in her mouth.

"No." She countered. "This is home. This was the first place I ever felt safe. The first place I ever felt really loved."

Jace sat up, disturbing the cat. Church forced upon him a murderous look before jumping off the bed and stalking out the door. "You aren't leaving alone, Liz. Your family is going, you're going to be safe. And I promise, you're going to be loved."

"What if we never come back?"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up beside him. "Then we never come back." Her eyes narrowed at his lack of comfort. "But that doesn't mean everything won't be okay. Idris is going to be the safest place for us after tomorrow. If we have to stay, we have to stay. Building a life there wouldn't be so bad, would it? A family?"

The comment earned half a smile from her. After everything, it was good to know he still saw a future with her. A family.

"I dreamt it like that." She admitted. "Raising a family in Idris, with you. And our families being there for all of it."

Jace grinned, his chipped incisor winking at her. "You did?" She nodded. "Tell me about it."

And she did. All of it. Their wedding, four kids (at which Jace gawked), a lifetime of happiness and love.

Without warning, he leaned forward and kissed her. At first, it felt like old times. And then he shocked her. Quite literally, a spark passed from his lips to hers.

"Sorry." He pressed the pad of his thumb to her bottom lip. He glanced to the door. "We should head down. They're probably about to send a search party for us."

Hopefully while they were in Idris, the Silent Brothers would find a way to get the heavenly fire out of Jace's system. Or maybe it would just disappear on its own.

* * *

By the time they got down to the Portal, most of the Conclave had already passed through and Simon had arrived to say his goodbyes. He and Clary were off on their own, talking quietly.

She felt a familiar prickle in her mind and her hand fell from Jace's.

"What's-?"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. Eliza's gaze was set straight ahead, her green eyes wide. Magnus was standing by the gate, conversing with Clary and Simon. He looked different. Perhaps it was the exchange of glamorous and flamboyant outfits for dark-washed jeans and a dark colored t-shirt. Or maybe it was the pure melancholia of his energy.

Jace nudged her forward. The only person outside of Alec and Magnus' relationship that was suffering from the breakup was her. "Go. I'll be right here."

She darted off, intercepting Magnus before he could reach Alec. "Little dove." His voice was dull and dry. "Leaving me again for the home country?"

The urge to hug him got the best of her and she threw her arms around him. He was still before his own arms wrapped around her waist. "If I remember correctly, _you_ kicked _me_ out." She choked on her own laugh. He still smelled the same, even if the faint odor of old Chinese food still clung to him. "By the Angel, Magnus, have you been eating anything other than Kung Pao chicken?" She pulled away, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

He shrugged. His eyes moved behind her before he turned his attention back. "I brought you something."

Her eyebrows shot up. "And here I thought you were only here for Alec."

Magnus frowned. "Don't be coy, Eliza." He snapped his fingers and a thick, square piece of black fabric materialized in his other hand. "It's wool, the good kind." He told her as she ran a hand across the black material. "From some animal in Peru called a vicuna."

She'd never heard of it. The fabric was soft and felt warm. She gave him questioning look and he nodded. She took it and let it open it. It was a cloak, longer made to reach her knees. It was lined in gold thread. The clasp was shaped into a small gold dagger, the blade buckling into the hilt. The sword was impeccably detailed with a small falling star down the little blade. There was even a pair of faerie wings etched onto the hilt.

"Magnus…" She breathed.

 _It was beautiful._

"Only the best for you, my little dove."

She clutched the cloak to her chest and glanced behind her. Alec was talking to his mother and had not yet noticed his ex-boyfriend's arrival. When she looked back at Magnus, he was still looking at Alec. Had their pining not been so mutually pathetic, she would have felt bad for them. "Go on." She touched his shoulder. "He misses you."

Magnus hesitated. Eliza gave him a gentle push in Alec's direction. She watched him approach Alec. Maryse saw him before Alec and took her leave. Maryse Lightwood was adjusting to Alec's sexuality far better than her husband.

Jace was still where he had been, true to his word. Eliza went back over to him, showing off her new cloak.

"Magnus continues to show me up, I see."

"You're only jealous he didn't get you a going away gift." She teased him.

Jace rolled his eyes. He took the cloak from her. "Here. Let me put it on you." She turned around and he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders. His thin fingers were slow and sure as he secured the clasp. "There." His hands moved up to her shoulders.

He spun her around, steadying her where their noses barely brushed against one another. She inhaled the smell of him. As of late, there was always a thin layer of sweat mostly covered by sandalwood and honey.

"Thanks." She breathed.

He was leaning in when Maryse called for them. Jace's eyes darkened, annoyed at the interruption.

She would have been as well, had she not known what would happen. They would kiss, she'd be electrified by the shock of heavenly fire passing from his lips to hers. Jace would feel guilty. It would be a repeat cycle of the past couple weeks.

"Time to go." She said. His hands fell from her shoulders and he took her hand.

Her mother and Clary stepped through the Portal after Luke. Alec and Isabelle, hand in hand, went through, followed by Maryse.

Simon was standing a little way from the Portal, his back to the Institute. Eliza waved half-heartedly to him, a wave of pity flowing through her. He was being left behind by his girlfriend (if they were officially dating, she never knew with Izzy) and his best friend. At least, she assured herself, Magnus was still around, and Simon had Jordan and Maia.

Her gaze shifted, eyes traveling over the Institute. All stained-glass windows and gothic spires. _Home_ , her heart tightened.

Ever so slightly, Jace tugged on her hand. She turned away to face the Portal, blue surges of magic too bright for her eyes. "It's okay." Jace whispered. "We'll be back."

They stepped through and she didn't think she believed him at all.

* * *

Her family was staying in Amatis Herondale's house, which she found weird. And extremely creepy. The last anyone had seen her, she'd become one of Jonathan's Endarkened Shadowhunters. No one had any clue as to how she'd been captured. Her house was spotless, the examiners sent by the Council had found nothing.

It was, in her good opinion, a nice house. She'd barely seen any of it during her last trip to Idris. It was what she imagined a good family home to look like. A fireplace in the living room, photos decorating each room. It was homey. Lived in. Warm.

She and Clary were sharing a room. Amatis' house only had two bedrooms, the master and the spare. The spare room only had one bed, but Luke assured them he would try to trade it in for two beds, so the two sisters didn't have to share a bed.

Clary was sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes trained on her sketchpad, but every so often looked up to the circular windows.

"What's this?" Eliza pressed the toe of her shoe against the trunk at the foot of the bed.

Clary looked up from her sketching. She leaned over the foot of the bed. "Clothes, mostly. I think they're Amatis' old clothes from when she was younger." Clary went back to her drawing. "Old school uniforms, a wedding dress, stuff like that."

A wedding dress? Wedding gowns weren't meant to be stored in trunks. Eliza knelt down and unlatched the trunk. There were pieces of clothes, stored away with careful precise. Each layer was separated by a thin piece of paper. Amatis had kept her old uniforms from the Shadowhunter Academy, among other more casual styles. At the very bottom was a dress, made from a white material. A matching white jacket was folded around it. Sewn into the dress were the silver runes for mourning.

"Clary," Eliza spoke softly, "this isn't a wedding dress." She held the dress carefully in her hands.

Clary looked back over. "Sure, it is. It's white."

Eliza, under other circumstances, would have smiled at her sister's lack of understanding of Nephilim customs. "White isn't a wedding color for Shadowhunters. It's the color for mourning."

She examined the dress. Now, the silver runes stuck out against the white fabric. On the cuff of each of the sleeves was sewn a faint design.

Herons, she realized.

A sour taste filled her mouth.

"Amatis wore this to Stephen's funeral." Eliza observed quietly.

A woman wearing the dress of a widow to the funeral for the man of whom she was no longer married. She would have stood off, away from the crowd. Unnoticed, nearly invisible.

Her fingers traced over the heron birds, her mouth suddenly dry.

"Hey, what are you two-.?"

Jocelyn was in the doorway, her eyes on the funeral dress in her oldest daughter's hands. Eliza looked up, blinking back tears.

"Oh, my." She entered the room and sat down next to Eliza. "I can't believe she kept this."

"It was the worst day of her life, wasn't it?" Eliza asked.

Jocelyn nodded. "Amatis never moved on from Stephen."

Eliza remembered the box of his things that Amatis had gifted Jace. A dagger, some photos, letters. Letters Stephen had written to his ex-wife. "He never got over her, either." Eliza said duly. "He still wrote her, after he married Celine."

Jocelyn frowned. "We do love strongly, terrifyingly so." She took the dress from Eliza's hands. "Nephilim have the hearts of angels. Cursed to endure every pain of being human, but never to heal from it." She said her tutor from when she was young had once told her that. Clary noted that it was a morbid way to think. Jocelyn agreed with her, still staring at Eliza. "But some of us are cursed that way, I believe. To love, truly love only once in a lifetime, enough so to die of a broken heart." She put the dress back over the trunk and reached to tuck a piece of Eliza's hair behind her ear. "Which is why I worry about you so much. You have the heart of an angel."

 _And the blood of a demon_ , she added bitterly.

Jocelyn got to her feet and reorganized all the clothes back into the trunk. Once again, the mourning dress was tucked away at the bottom of the trunk, stored deep as a bad memory. "You should wear white tomorrow, to the meeting."

"Why?" Clary asked.

"Nephilim have been lost. Whether they've died or been turned into Endarkened, each one gone will be mourned as if they're dead." Jocelyn told her. She walked from the room to the door. "Try and get some sleep. And," she gave Eliza a pointed look, "no sneaking out. Please."

Clary stifled a laugh.

Eliza stood up and gave her mother a nod. "Since you said please." Jocelyn bid them both goodnight and shut the door softly.

"Are you really not going to go see him?" Clary asked her.

She said no. As much as she wanted to be near him, she couldn't stand to look at him so soon after seeing a pattern of herons on a dress made for mourning. If things had been different, she could have worn a dress just like that.

* * *

It was only an hour after they turned off the lights and Clary had resolved to sleep, that her sister woke up. Eliza had stayed awake, unable to find any peace in sleep.

"You're still awake." Clary observed, turning on the witchlight lamp that sat on the bedside table.

Eliza was sitting in the floor by the foot of the bed. "I have trouble sleeping in new places. It'll take me a couple nights."

Clary got up from the bed. "Hungry?"

"Famished." Eliza got up. She hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning, which had been a quick affair that occurred around seven thirty.

The two sisters left their shared room and walked their way down the dimly lit hallway. They were quiet on the stairs in fear of waking Jocelyn or Luke. Mostly, though, their mother. And while the living room was empty, they both heard the set of voices coming from the kitchen.

"Is that what I think it is…?" The voice belonged to Luke.

"Yes." Jocelyn replied, her voice uneasy and stringent. "I haven't seen it in ages. I don't know how it ended up here."

Eliza grabbed Clary by the wrist, holding her back. She pressed her index finger to her lip, signaling for Clary to stay quiet.

"Clary said Jonathan took it." Luke said.

Jocelyn huffed. "Then it should have been destroyed, along with everything else in that apartment." She snapped at him. "But it's _here_."

Clary had, on the day of Jonathan's ritual to create his Endarkened, destroyed the interdimensional apartment. They had no idea how Jonathan was getting around, especially how quickly he seemed to move.

Whatever the item was, it belonged to Jocelyn. Many of her items had been stolen by Valentine and kept in the apartment. After everything, he still thought she would come back to him. He'd kept clothes for her, art materials stolen from her apartment in Brooklyn, pieces of her jewelry.

"Valentine is gone, now." Luke told her. "He's dead."

Eliza and Clary poked their heads around the corner. The two adults were huddled beside each other at the small kitchen table.

"But Jonathan isn't." Jocelyn reminded him. "He's out there somewhere. Watching. Waiting." How much did it pain her, to have a son like him? How much did it hurt to grow something in your stomach for nine months and have it come out as Jonathan?

Eliza realized how lucky she was. She'd barely made it by the skin of her teeth. Whatever happened, whatever event occurred to give her humanity and Jonathan none, she was thankful for it.

"Every year, on their birthday, I'd lock myself in my room. April fourth, without fail. I'd wake up and it would hit me. _The twins_ , I'd tell myself. I kept a box for each of them, something I'd done before…everything." Jocelyn's words grew wistful, airy and far off. "I had a photograph with each of them. A lock of Jonathan's hair from his first haircut. God, he screamed like a demon." She laughed crossly. "And Eliza's rattle. It belonged to Seraphina. Valentine had it engraved for Eliza after they were born." She heard the ragged sounds of Jocelyn's breathing. "We never expected a second baby, not twins. All the healers had been sure of one child and that it was a boy. And when they were born, Valentine was ecstatic. I hadn't seen him so thrilled in ages. Now, now I know _why_."

Eliza swallowed and ducked back around the corner. She rested her head on the wall, taking a quiet breath. A normal father would have been happy for two children. He was happy for two soldiers.

"With Jonathan, I always knew something was wrong with him. He never cried. Babies always cry." Jocelyn continued on. "He hated being held. She was different, Eliza was. She cried, often. Mostly because of Jonathan. There was one time they were playing in the garden and Jonathan pushed her into a beehive." Luke said nothing on the matter. Clary was watching Eliza, green eyes shadowed. "On their birthday, I'd look at those photographs and I'd wish for them to be with me. I would imagine a little boy who could laugh and play with his sisters, a smiling little boy with green eyes. And I always saw Eliza, fiercely protective of Clary and they'd be thick as thieves."

That version of Jonathan, the one Jocelyn had dreamt up and imagined, had never existed. He would never exist.

"At least," Luke finally said, "your dream about Eliza came true." Clary reached and grabbed onto Eliza's hand. _Thick as thieves_. "But you have to tell the Clave about this. The box didn't just show up."

Jocelyn made a frustrated noise and said she would rather burn the box. "All of this is my fault, Luke." She said. He asked how any of it could be her fault. She hadn't poisoned Jonathan in the womb or raised him into what he was. "I didn't kill him when I had the chance." Luke reminded her that up until recently, Jonathan and Jace had been bound to one another. She wouldn't have killed Jace like that. "No, I mean when he was a baby. I should have killed Jonathan when he was a baby." Her words were spoken with a bitter finality. She meant every word.


	45. Chapter 45

In the time since she had last been in Alicante, the Gard had been remade. Not completely, but enough that it seemed newer. The gates were new, the old ones having been destroyed in the attack. The Council's symbol shone in the bleak sunlight. _Adamas_ always did react strangely to light.

"What are each of the C's for?" Eliza quizzed her sister as they approached the Gard.

Clary thought for a moment. "Council, Covenant, Clave, and Consul." She answered.

"Good." Eliza nodded.

Each _C_ housed a symbolic icon for the four species of Downworlders. The Fair Folk were paid homage with an arrow, vampires with a star, werewolves a crescent moon, and warlocks with a spell book.

Soon enough, all Shadowhunters would be gathered in the Gard for a Council meeting. All for her brother.

"Are you nervous?" Clary whispered.

Many of the Nephilim wore white, in memoriam of those who had been lost.

Clary had opted for the white jacket that had been paired with Amatis' mourning dress. Eliza herself had chosen a long white dress with a high neck and sleeves that clung to her arms, paired with a belt shaded in the ceremonial red of the Nephilim.

A Shadowhunter walked past them, a woman, maybe older than Jocelyn. She shot Eliza a venomous look before disappearing in the crowd. The woman had not been the first to shower her with judgement, and she wouldn't be the last.

Eliza turned away. "Why would I be nervous?" She grumbled. "It's not as if I'm walking into the lion's den."

Clary gave her a sympathetic look. There was a difference, a universal truth beholden between the two sisters. Both bore the burden of having Jonathan has a brother, but there was an inherent social danger in being his twin. Clary had the cushion of being raised mundane, by her mother. Eliza was not so lucky.

On the path leading up Gard Hill, she spotted the Lightwoods among the others. Maryse and Robert walked ahead of their children, as far apart as social standards could allow without raising outside suspicion. Their children followed, Isabelle nestled between Alec and Jace.

All five of them wore the white color of mourning.

 _Max_ , Eliza told herself, as if she could ever forget. Alicante was the last place he'd been alive. The last place he had breathed and been held by his family.

As she watched them walk up, Jace's gaze found hers. He broke from his family, gesturing at her to Isabelle. Isabelle nodded thoughtfully before he began his movement through the crowd. They parted for him as the Red Sea had for Moses. He was special among Nephilim standards, and not just because he was an exemplary Shadowhunter.

He was a Herondale, but the son of a Morgenstern. The hostage of Jonathan (most called him. Sebastian but she couldn't bring herself to it, he would always been Jonathan to her), freed from a demonic binding by a blade sent from Raziel himself.

As he grew closer to her, more and more eyes found themselves glued to both of them.

"Hi." He greeted she and her sister. His eyes flitted over their clothes. "Wearing white?" Clary pointed out his own attire. "Touché."

Eliza looked behind him. So many people were staring at him. At her. And the meeting hadn't even started yet.

"Liz." Her name sounded like an angel's song coming from him.

"Everyone's staring." She said quietly as her eyes found him.

He smiled, hooking his hand in hers. "Only because you're so beautiful. You look like a snow angel."

She rolled her eyes but appreciated the compliment and the effort. Jace wasn't oblivious. He knew everything that happened around him. She knew his ears had prickled at the comments made about him. "That's not why they're staring, and you know it."

He pulled her along towards the Gard. "Well, that's why I'm staring."

It was enough to make her smile and push all thoughts of pariah-ness from her mind.

"Liz, we should probably...you know…tell him…?" Clary's eyes darted around them. Jace asked what she was talking about.

In the hustle and bustle of the morning, Eliza had forgotten about the overheard conversation between Luke and Jocelyn the previous night. The mysterious appearance of Jonathan's baby box. Clary and Eliza relayed the event to him and Clary confirmed seeing the box on the table, recognizing it as the one her mother had kept for her son.

"But Sebastian took it. He had it in the apartment." Clary told Jace. "How could it have gotten in the house?"

"The only reason Sebastian turned Amatis was to hurt Luke and your mom." Jace sad to them. "I remember when we were b- when I was with him." He glanced at Eliza, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were focused on the movement of the crowd. "Before we went to the Burren, he told me he was going to come to Alicante and take a Shadowhunter. He never said who, but now we know it was Amatis."

"Which means," Eliza looked back at Clary and Jace slowly, her eyes dark, "my brother planted the box. He knew that _Mom_ and Luke would find it eventually." She was growing more accustomed to referring to Jocelyn as Mom. "And he knew, he _knows_ , how much seeing it would rattle Mom."

A high-pitched bell rang out through the air and the gates to the Gard opened. Somehow, the three of them ended up with both their families in the jostling crowd. The walk through the Gard was solemn and silent. The stone fortress had never felt less welcoming, under the circumstances and the cold winter air.

The large mass of Shadowhunters found themselves in the Council chamber, a long room located at the end of a long corridor. The Consul, Jia Penhallow, greeted the mass as they entered the chamber.

The chamber itself was a massive amphitheater, built to hold a group of gigantic proportion. The seating was compromised of rows of benches looking out at the raised dais. The dais housed two podiums. The Consul would stand at one and the Inquisitor at the other. Behind the podiums sat a chair for each of the Downworld representatives on the Council. Each chair had a branded symbol for its specific Downworlder. There, in front of everything, was a long table covered by a midnight blue table cloth made of velvet. On top of the table was a sword. Maellartach.

The Mortal Sword.

Eliza's chest tightened.

The windows behind the dais overlooked the city. The demon towers glistened in the distance.

"I'll see you later." Robert Lightwood broke from his family to take his place at the dais. Behind the Inquisitor's podium.

Her family followed the Lightwoods down an aisle of benches. Had it been an official Council meeting, Luke would have taken the seat on the dais reserved for the werewolf representative. But instead, he sat by Jocelyn.

Eliza glanced around the room as she settled into her seat, squeezed between Clary and Jace. Alec sat on Jace's other side and Jocelyn on Clary's. The room was nearly filled, even though more Shadowhunters were still coming through the door. When Consul Penhallow took her stance at the podium, the room grew silent.

"The Council will now come to attention." She spoke acutely and clearly. Her voice projected through the chamber. The beginning of the meeting drew the audience forward. Those, at least, who had no clue what was going on. "Several of our Institutes have been attacked in the recent days. One after another before the previous could be reported. The respective Conclaves of Bangkok, Berlin, Buenos Aires, Los Angeles, Moscow, and Oslo have been Turned." Quiet tension, thick and suffocating, grew in the room. "Those who were capable fighters, I mean." Jia spoke again. "The Shadowhunters who were too old or young were killed."

A murmur passed through the crowd. Not many knew of what had occurred at the Burren. Of what Jonathan Morgenstern had done. What he had created.

"What do you mean 'Turned'?" A woman closer to the dais asked. Something shimmered on her cheek, a brazen tattoo of a koi fish. "Were they not slain with the others?"

Consul Penhallow's eyes seemed to find Eliza in the crowd. "No." She said in response. "When I say 'Turned', I mean that Jonathan Morgenstern- Sebastian Morgenstern, if you will- has Turned Shadowhunters from seraphic beings into demonic ones."

The name made the room buzz. Eliza saw no eyes on her, but she _felt_ them. She kept her eyes locked forward, her jaw tightened. Jace was still holding her hand, his thumb running circles over the back of her hand.

Someone called out that Shadowhunters didn't raise arms against other Shadowhunters.

That was the thing though. These were no longer Shadowhunters. Their Marks had faded after drinking from the Infernal Cup.

She heard her brother's name, mixed into a conversation with her father's. A man two rows ahead turned and met her eye. She swallowed, looking back to Consul Penhallow on the dais. She was notifying the mass of the nearly dead Endarkened that the Silent Brothers were examining.

A flicker of movement at the edge of the dais captured her attention. Brother Zachariah stood with his hands clasped in front of him. Helen Blackthorn, dressed in white, stood beside him.

 _Our allies in the Spiral Labyrinth are searching tirelessly for a cure_ , his level voice echoed through the room, ringing in the heads of all the Shadowhunters. His piece earned a negative comment about warlocks from someone in the crowd.

Another, a woman with pale white hair, inquired if the Endarkened- Kriegsmesser- could be interrogated. Brother Zachariah's answer filled the heads of everyone: there could be no interrogating the Endarkened. He was barely conscious and his allegiance lay completely and totally to Jonathan.

"Can he be killed?" The woman with the facial tattoo asked out. "Sebastian Morgenstern. They say he cannot be killed."

Eliza shifted in her seat. "Anyone can be killed." She commented.

It had been something she meant to say in her head, or barely under her breath. But the words came out a little too loud.

"What was that?" Consul Penhallow looked out to the crowd, her eyes searching.

Several turned to look at Eliza. A murmur swept through the room.

"…Morgenstern girl…"

"…Demon blood, they say…"

"Is she a spy?"

"She's probably working for her brother…"

She clenched her jaw. Her grip on Jace's hand tightened. "I said," she spoke loud and clear, "anyone can be killed."

Jia Penhallow's eyes found her. "Even the Devil?" Koi tattoo asked sharply.

A dark smile played over Eliza's lips. "My father is already dead. We burned him and everything." The woman insisted that she meant Sebastian. Eliza scoffed. "My brother isn't the Devil. Valentine was. The Devil creates monsters, demons to carry out his plans and run the roost long after he's gone. Jonathan is just one of those demons."

It shut the woman up. Jia nodded curtly, ending that segment effectively. She turned to Helen Blackthorn. "The last attack, on the Los Angeles Institute, was the only one that left survivors. Six children, in fact. Miss Blackthorn, if you will."

Helen disappeared from the dais.

It wasn't in Jonathan's nature to leave survivors. Not unless he needed them for something. Nothing was without reason with him.

Helen returned, ushering a young boy, maybe a little older than Max Lightwood had been. He was skinny, wiry with a head of brown hair. He wore white and held in his arms a small boy. A toddler with the same brown curls. A young girl stood behind the boy, probably ten or so. She had dark brown hair and the boy whose hand she held had messy black curls. Being one herself, Eliza noted that they were twins. Behind them was a younger girl with brown pigtail braids.

Each of the children wore white. And each of them looked exhausted and terrified.

Her brother wasn't beneath killing children. So why leave these alive?

"Who are they?" Eliza asked Clary quietly.

"The Blackthorn children. Helen's younger siblings."

"Julian Blackthorn." Consul Penhallow called out.

The first boy looked up from the floor. Julian handed the toddler to Helen and stepped forward. His eyes were frantic as they scoured the chamber. A girl came out on the dais, taking a place beside Helen. She gave Julian a thumbs-up gesture.

"Please pick up the Mortal Sword, Julian." Consul Penhallow told him. Her voice had lost its edge. Her words were smooth and gentle, the way they were supposed to be when talking to children.

Clary fidgeted. Jace swallowed. Eliza inhaled.

"He's just a kid." Clary muttered.

"He has to." Jace told her.

Eliza agreed with him. She took her hand from Jace's, balling her hands into fists on her knees. The Angel's Sword was heavy. Not in its make, in its being. It weighed upon you until the truth seeped out. By choice or force.

Julian complied. Robert Lightwood left his position at his podium and moved to the table. He lifted the Mortal Sword and placed it in Julian's grasp. The boy struggled with the weight of the Angel's Sword.

Consul Penhallow went to stand beside Julian. She knelt down next him. "Julian, tell everyone who is on the dais with you."

Julian said that Consul Penhallow and Inquisitor Lightwood were with him. He listed his siblings: Helen, Tiberius, Livia, Drusilla, and Tavy. And the blond girl next to Helen, Emma. Carstairs, his best friend.

"Can you explain what you witnessed at the Los Angeles Institute?"

The boy's skin was paling. "It happened in the afternoon." He told her. "Katerina was helping me and Emma train and Mark was watching us." He said that Emma's parents had been out on patrol. There had been a flash of light and the adults- Mark and Katerina- went to investigate, telling Julian and Emma to stay put. They heard people fighting. They split up. Emma went to get the younger children and Julian to alert the Clave with the twins. "That's when we saw him." Julian said in a quiet voice.

Eliza straightened.

"Who?" Consul Penhallow asked.

Julian looked at her and swallowed. "The Shadowhunter." Julain said he wore a red cloak and runes that 'weren't right.' Consul Penhallowed asked what he meant by that. Julian explained that the runes made him feel sick. "It was him, Consul Penhallow. Sebastian Morgenstern."

Jace reached over, taking her hand again. "Are you sure?" Consul Penhallowed asked him.

Julian nodded. "He had a sword. It was silver and it had black stars on it."

 _Phaesphoros_. The father's sword. Jonathan's, _Heosphoros,_ lost was premade, part of a long-lasting set in the Morgenstern family. The son to Valentine's _Phaesphoros_. Jonathan's sword, so their father had told, was made of a mixture of black gold and _adamas_ , the blade silver. A pattern of stars decorated the hilt and blade ridge. Valentine's sword, twice the length of theirs, gold and _adamas_. It had been bathed in a silver so dark, the blade shone black. _Phaesphoros_ as well had a pattern of stars on the ridge of its blade. Her sword, it was special. It was newer than the others. Made special for a daughter. The blade was slimmer than that of _Heosphoros_. White gold and _adamas_. An M engraved on the hilt, surrounded by three glittering rubies. Down the blade was a single falling star.

" _Phae_ _sphoros_." Eliza murmured to Jace. "Father's sword." He'd seen it before, the night they died. The night he killed Jonathan.

"What did he do with the sword?" Consul Penhallow asked.

Julian told her that Sebastian had held the sword to his father's throat. "He had others with him. Other Shadowhunters. They wore black cloaks and red gear. I didn't know they made that." His eyes flitted to Helen and she nodded for him to continue. "I remember the woman, she had brown hair. And a cup, it looked like the Angel's Cup. She forced my dad to drink from it. And he-he-." Julian's voice broke off.

Eliza closed her eyes. She blocked out his voice as he continued.

"Stop it!" A voice rang out.

Her eyes flew open. The girl, Emma, had run out on the dais. She had stepped in front of Julian and was staring Consul Penhallow down with a furious look.

"I saw what happened. Question me instead." Her arms jutted out, hands palm out. Begging for the pain, the weight, of the truth be put on her instead. "Julian isn't even the one who stabbed Sebastian Morgenstern in the heart. I am."

 _What?_

Eliza jerked forward. Jace's other hand wrapped around her bicep, keeping her in the seat.

"Emma, please." Consul. Penhallow insisted. "The Sword isn't harming Julian. I promise."

Emma moved to stand beside Julian. She placed her hands over the Sword so that they shared the burden. "I stabbed him. Right in the heart." Her voice was loud as it echoed through the chamber. "He didn't even flinch. He pulled out the knife and he laughed at me."

"Did he say anything?"

"Yes. He said, 'It's too bad you aren't going to live to tell the Clave that my mother has given me more strength than they could ever imagine. Only Glorious could end my life. A shame my fool of a sister wasted it, isn't it? Heaven will not grant another wish. There is nothing that can touch me now.'"

Next to her, Clary shuddered at their brother's words spoken through the mouth of a child. The room was no longer quiet as the members of the Clave broke out into murmured conversation. Emma ran off the dais and disappeared. After a moment, Clary was on her feet. Eliza, too shocked at her sudden movement, didn't try to stop her as she ran out of the aisle. She ran up onto the dais, past Helen Blackthorn and out towards where Emma had disappeared to.

"Well." Eliza breathed. She settled back into her seat.

"Thank you, Julian." Consul Penhallow said. She nodded at Robert Lightwood and he took the Sword from Julian's hands. The boy went back to join his family. "Eliza Morgenstern." Jia's dark eyes found her in the crowd.

Jace's hand tightened around hers. Her mother was looking at her. _Did you know_ , her eyes were asking, her lips mouthed.

Imperceptibly, Eliza shook her head. No, but she had assumed as much. She pried Jace's hand from hers and stood up. The movement shifted all eyes on her.

She balled her hands into fists at her sides, locking her eyes on the dais. Her mouth felt dry, her throat scratchy, skin hot. They all watched her on her journey to the dais. Her feet were silent as she walked up the wooden steps. She stood between Jia Penhallow and Robert Lightwood.

"Will you take up the Sword?" Consul Penhallow asked.

Eliza held out her hands. Robert Lightwood placed the Angel's Sword in her grasp. Her fingers curled around the blade and she closed her eyes.

She tasted dirt in her mouth, cold dirt mixed with warm blood.

"What can you tell us about your brother, Sebastian Morgenstern?"

Her eyes opened. "What do you want to know?"

"What was he like growing up? Did the two of you get along?"

Eliza wanted to scoff, reply with some sarcastic remark. But she didn't. She couldn't. "I wouldn't say that. We…co-existed." Penhallow asked what she meant by that. "When we were younger, I was considered the competition. It became clear when we were about twelve that Jonathan had nothing to worry about. But-." Her sentence broke and she swallowed. "But he still liked to torture me."

"You said there was a competition? What kind? And what exactly became clear?"

"The competition for our father's attention. Jonathan needed it, he craved it." She said. "A few days before our- my-twelfth birthday, we were training. Valentine made us train for hours on end. When we performed poorly, he would whip us. The whip was tipped with demon metal. On that particular day, he made us spar twelve times. 'One for each year you've lived and one for luck.'

"Miss Morgenstern-."

Eliza looked at Consul Penhallow. "Eleven. We sparred for twelve rounds. I lost eleven of them." She looked back out at the crowd. Everyone was looking at her. She focused on her mother. "We were trained the same way. There was never any difference. It didn't matter that he was a boy and I was a girl. What mattered was that I _cared_. I felt bad for hurting my brother. I didn't want to beat him senseless like I was supposed to. And Jonathan…he just wanted to win. He liked beating the hell out of me."

"Miss-."

"My father didn't bother whipping me that day. He locked me in a Malachi Configuration. You're familiar with those?"

Consul Penhallow gave a quiet 'yes' in response. "A seraph blade is placed in the four cardinal directions. You draw the rune at the southern blade, and it creates a cage." Eliza nodded silently. "Your father put you in Malachi Configuration as a punishment for dismal performance during training?"

"Mhmm." Eliza hummed. "He let me out three days after, on my twelfth birthday. No food, no water. Nothing." Her grip on the Sword tightened and she grimaced. "You asked me what Jonathan was like growing up? He was a monster, just like our father told him he was. He told us both that. Jonathan took it to heart, clearly. He was violent. Cold. Cruel. He was sadistic. My brother is a psychopath, he always has been. I've spent most of my life being terrified of him and hating him."

She heard the slow breaths of Robert and Jia. "You were bound to him, much like Jace Herondale was. What was the nature of this connection?"

"Our lives weren't tied together, if that's what you mean. But it was a connection of the same kind."

"Demonic?" Robert Lightwood inquired. "Forced on you by Lilith?"

She nodded, saying yes. "She thought…she thought that we ought to be closer to one another. The way twins are meant to be. In life and death, that's what she said. She used demonic versions of the Wedded Union runes to bind us together."

She _hated_ the memory of it. The dreams and what had been her life only a few weeks ago. She and Jonathan, behaving the way siblings were meant to. It wasn't a real familial love, runes couldn't create love. But it didn't mean that it hadn't _felt_ real. They'd joked with each other, laughed, eaten meals together.

And for a short while, they'd been _parabatai_. Real ones, like Jace and Alec.

Now the only things she had left from that time were vivid memories and a half-faded _parabatai_ rune.

"What other information can you give us about Sebastian?" Consul Penhallow questioned.

Eliza met her gaze. "Ask me what you really want to ask." She instructed. "Don't beat around the bush. I could spend days letting you know every single thing about my brother and never get around to what you actually want to know."

Consul Penhallow licked her lips slowly. "All right then. Are the rumors true or just rumors? Does your brother have the blood of a demon? Is he now unkillable?"

The truth was a dangerous thing. For something so simple, so cut and dry, it held a lot of power. She had no choice but to give it over. Condemn herself. Who was to say her head wouldn't be put on the chopping block alongside her brother's when it was all over?

"Lilith's blood is in his veins. Valentine experimented on us before we were born."

"You have it as well?"

"Yes. It's what makes him so dangerous. It's why he is the way he is. He's faster than a normal Nephilim, stronger too. But the blood burnt the humanity from him. That's why he's so deadly. He doesn't _care_. There are no emotions to hold him back."

"That doesn't apply to you? Are you not _enhanced_ in the same way?"

Eliza cracked a smile. "I have my moments, but I do a pretty good job of holding them back. I was given a chance early on, one Jonathan wasn't. That's what makes me different, human."

"And is he killable? Is there a way to kill him?"

"Sure."

"What is it?"

"Me."

" _You_?" Consul Penhallow repeated. "Your brother said a weapon of Heaven-."

Eliza interrupted her. "Give me one." She told her. "Find a way to take the heavenly fire out of my boyfriend and put it in my sword. And I'll drive it straight through Jonathan's heart."

"What if you miss?" Consul Penhallow asked her. "Not many can hit the heart on the first try."

Something rustled in the crowd. It drew her attention. Jace was standing. "She never misses, Consul. Eliza always hits her mark."

Jia Penhallow smiled at Eliza. "Very well, then. You could do it, take the life of your brother?"

Eliza smirked as she loosened her grip on the Angel's Sword. She slid her hand down the blade and gripped the hilt of Maellartach. Voices broke out in the crowd. "It would be my greatest pleasure in life."

* * *

It was a tiring business, holding the Mortal Sword. Being questioned in front of most of the Nephilim.

It was even more tiring being stared down by her mother.

Jocelyn Fairchild had inquisitive eyes, all seeing and luminous. They were the same eyes that had been passed down to both her daughters. At that moment, her eyes were trained on her oldest daughter.

"I should have known." Jocelyn muttered.

Eliza shifted. They were at the kitchen table where, only the night before, she had heard Jocelyn and Luke discussing her mother's wish to have killed Jonathan as an infant. Jocelyn had her hands wrapped around a cup of tea. Eliza's sat untouched in front of her.

"You couldn't have known." Eliza assured her. "You thought I was dead."

Jocelyn sighed, shaking her head. "I'm your _mother_. I should have known you were hurting. I grew you, I carried you inside of me for nine months. How could I have not known?"

Eliza picked up her cup. She took a slow drink. Chai, her favorite. "Like I said, you thought I was dead. You don't have to feel guilty. It isn't your fault."

"I knew that-I knew-." Jocelyn frowned and let go of her cup. She sat back in the chair. "Luke and Maryse told me that Valentine had hurt you growing up. I never…I never imagined something like what you spoke of today."

"You thought some part of him, some humane part would appear in his parenting?" Eliza asked her. "He committed one of the most atrocious acts in our history by slaughtering other Nephilim. He wanted to eradicate Downworlders and he murdered the Silent Brothers. He _experimented_ on pregnant women. There was no part of him fit to be a father."

Eliza took another drink of her tea. Jocelyn picked up her cup, holding it between her chin and chest. "He was so excited the day the two of you were born. He went the very next day and requested a sword for you. But that day, the day you were born, I slept. I was in and out, it was so much work, bringing the two of you into the world." She could imagine. Childbirth sounded horrible. "He stayed in the room the whole time I slept. Every time I woke, he was there. Holding the two of you. Talking about what great Shadowhunters you would become." Her mother's voice was nostalgic, far-off. Remembering a better time. "He doted on you a lot, I remember that. You were a sensitive baby, a soft child. Jonathan was always pulling your hair or taking your things. And your father was always there to save you. That's why it's so hard for me to think of him hurting you."

He had _doted_ on her? That was hard to believe. She was his great mistake. Unsatisfactory. A failure. Lost cause. Waste of time and space. She couldn't picture a time when he had held her, shushed her cries and promised everything would be all right.

"He realized I wasn't what he wanted me to be." Eliza told her. "Like I told Consul Penhallow, it became clear Jonathan was going to be the soldier. He was the perfect weapon that Father wanted. After that, I meant nothing. Not until he needed me. And I took the first chance I could get to leave and do what I could to stop him."

"I wish things had been different." Jocelyn sighed. "For your sake. And for Jace's."

Eliza had half a smile on her face. She was thankful the conversation about her upbringing was at a close. Her mother's unjustified guilt was too much to bear. "Oh, you like my boyfriend now?"

"I've never disliked him. I just didn't trust him."

"And now you do?"

Jocelyn took a drink of her tea and set the cup back on the table. She stared at Eliza with motherly intent. "He loves you. I've seen the way he looks at you and I know he'll protect you with his life. And he makes you happy. That's all I can hope for in the person you choose to spend your life with."

* * *

The Lightwoods had been granted a _nice_ house. It was one set aside for the Inquisitor and his or her family to live in. Which meant it was one of the nicest houses inside the city. The house was comprised of several floors.

Jace and Alec were sharing a room, which she didn't think was necessary considering the house was so large. Isabelle, being a girl, had her own room. Which Eliza was sure she enjoyed.

The two Lightwood siblings were sitting together in the windowsill. Jace and Eliza on Jace's bed. They were sitting next to one another, not touching except for the fact that their hands were interlocked. Clary had taken residence on the foot of Alec's bed upon her arrival.

"We're basically in hiding." Jace said bitterly. "All Shadowhunters were recalled back to Idris, locked up nice and tight. Meanwhile, Sebastian is out there. Demons are out there. And we're all sitting here."

"Not for long." Alec assured him. "The Council has to make a plan. He's already murdered dozens of Shadowhunters, they can't risk more lives before they have a plan."

"They have a plan, somewhat." Eliza reminded him. Jace's face immediately twisted into annoyance. "Jace, don't start." She begged.

"It's a stupid plan." He said thickly. "You can't offer yourself up on a platter like that."

"What the hell else are we going to do?" She asked him. "Wait for Jonathan to slaughter more people? Mundanes? The only way to stop him is to kill him. And I'm the best chance at that."

Jace rolled his eyes at her. "Why? Because you're the best Shadowhunter of our age? That doesn't mean anything, Liz. He's almost killed you before, he could do it again. He could really kill you." He said quickly. "And I don't think Lilith will be too keen on bringing you back again."

Her green eyes narrowed at him. The corner of her mouth twitched. "No. Because we're built the same. I know him, better than anyone in this room. I know how he thinks. I can kill him, and I will."

"You've missed him before." Jace reminded her quietly. "You've tried before and failed."

"This time will be different." She promised him. "I'm not going to let my emotions get in the way."

Every other time, when faced with the option to strike her brother down, she had stopped herself. Some integral part of her had held back. The same part that refused to beat him in sparring matches as children. It was a weak little part of her that recognized Jonathan more as her brother than a cold-blooded, psychotic murderer.

It still existed, on some lower level of her being. But she wouldn't let it stop her again.

"Is that all that happened after I left?" Clary asked them. "You offered to kill Sebastian and they dismissed?"

Isabelle said not quite. She explained that the Council concluded that the missing members of the attacks needed to be assumed as Endarkened now. He needed soldiers, not hostages. Alec added that even with the six Conclaves on his side, his forces were still smaller.

"He knows that." Jace told his _parabatai_. His tawny eyes had turned a dark gold. "Trust me."

"We have Downworlders. They'll side with us. Tomorrow's meeting is with the representatives. They'll help us fight against him." Alec said to him.

"We hope." Isabelle added in a solemn tone. "After all that, conversation turned to Jace."

Clary raised her eyebrows. "What about him?"

Isabelle shrugged. "You know, the usual. Heavenly fire, can we get it out of him, stuff like that. Which," she said in a bored tone, "rounds back to-."

"Me." Eliza looked at Clary.

"You?"

Eliza nodded. "I told them I could kill Jonathan. But I'll need a weapon made of heavenly fire to do it."

Clary frowned. "Jace is the only source of it though…"

Eliza glanced at Jace, who's jaw was locked tight, his lips pressed in a firm line. "Yeah." She said dully. "Which is why I told them to get it out of him and into my sword so I could drive it through Jonathan's heart."

Jace, clearly, did not agree with her plan. Before he could yet again disagree with her, Alec relayed the rest to Clary. "After that, there was kind of a scene. A bunch of people think Eliza is secretly siding with Sebastian and don't trust her."

"The usual." Eliza sighed.

"They want to find a way to capture Sebastian. See if they can kill off all the Endarkened."

Izzy said something about trapping him in a coffin made of _adamas_ and dropping him to the bottom of the ocean. Which wasn't a half-bad idea.

Jace shook his head at her. "They're still trying to figure out how to cure the Endarkened. The warlocks in the Spiral Labyrinth are being paid a lot to figure out Sebastian's ritual and spell."

"They just need to be killed." Isabelle said toughly.

Eliza didn't necessarily disagree with her. It would be more time-efficient to just kill off the Endarkened. Alec reminded Isabelle that most of the Endarkened, if not all of them, still had Shadowhunter family. They were missed, they'd been real people. Their families wanted them back.

Like Amatis. Luke wanted his sister back.

"And I want Max back, but that isn't going to happen." Isabelle's voice rose. "They're not people anymore, Alec. They're demons walking around in Shadowhunter bodies." She was shouting, high voice bouncing off the walls of the room.

"Stop yelling." Alec ordered her. "Mom and Dad are still in the house. We don't need them coming up here."

"I know that." She snapped at him. "And I doubt we're their main concern right now. They're probably in their room, standing on opposite sides-."

"That's not our problem." Alec said.

Eliza glanced at Jace. Usually, when Alec and Izzy fought, he watched with slight amusement. But he sat with his eyes dark and trained on their hands.

Isabelle harshly said it was because Maryse and Robert were their parents. "Iz," Alec said carefully, "lots of parents split up when a child dies."

Eliza's attention snapped back to them. Isabelle's mouth fell open. She was more sensitive than the others when it came to Max. She felt responsible, somehow, even though it wasn't her fault and she couldn't have helped him.

Isabelle pushed out of the windowsill and ran from the room. Alec started after her. Clary looked over at Jace and Eliza. "Guess I'll go home." She said.

Eliza let go of Jace's hand. "I'll go with you." She got off the bed and grabbed her jacket. Clary's eyes flickered to Jace. He was watching Eliza, eyes dark with perplexity and thought. "I can get back on my own. I think you should stay. You guys have a lot to talk about."

Clary left them alone in the room. Jace was silent until the sound of Clary's feet against the stairs disappeared.

"Jace-."

"Come on." He stood and put on his jacket. "Let's get out of here." He grabbed her hand and led her out of the bedroom.

* * *

"If you're going to berate me for offering a plan again, I'd honestly rather just go home."

It was cold, maybe colder than New York. No snow, not yet. But when it came, it would be beautiful. The most natural of things, like rain and snow and sunshine, always seemed more beautiful in Idris. She didn't need warlocks to know magic was real. Idris was all the proof she needed.

Other Shadowhunters, scurrying around in the early evening, spent sideways looks in their direction. It may have been dark, but the street that paralleled Oldway Canal was busy as ever.

"I'm tired of talking about it." She added when she received no response. "What's done is done and if they take the offer, good. If they don't, that's fine too."

He stopped as they drew upon one of the many squares inside the city. The stone well that sat in the center of the square had been covered up for the colder season. "It's not about the plan anyway, Liz. It's about _you_."

"Yeah, I know. You think I'm being reckless and-."

"Because you are being reckless. But that's not even what I mean." He sighed. He rubbed the side of his neck and looked around. It was several seconds before his gaze landed back on her. "Why does it always have to be you? Why do you always have to offer yourself up for the most dangerous mission? Killing Valentine, killing Sebastian. Why does it have to be you?" He didn't give her time to respond before continuing on. "Because they're your family? They're Clary and your mom's family too. Because they hurt you? They hurt a lot of people. What is it? Why you?"

Her shoulders relaxed, slumping almost. The horrible part of his tirade wasn't that he was angry, because he wasn't, but that he sounded scared. That was what signaled the alarms in her head. Jace rarely _sounded_ scared. It wasn't often he let any of his fear show.

"No, Jace, it's-." She stopped herself. To be frank, the reasons he listed were the very same reasons she had given herself. False reasons. Coverups for the bitter and miserable truth. "If I kill him, maybe people won't whisper or stare." She murmured. "They won't say I'm with him. They'll trust me."

His face, heavenly and beautiful, softened. "They'll always talk, Lizzie. Your Valentine's daughter and you're Sebastian's sister. Nothing you do will change it. You don't have to prove anything to anyone." He reached, taking her hand. His skin was warm, even in the cold night air.

 _Thank you, heavenly fire._

"That's not all…" He asked what all she needed. What else could there be? "We aren't the same. He thinks that somewhere inside, I'm like him, but I'm not. I don't want to be. We look the same and we have the same blood, but that's it. Isn't it?"

"Eliza, you will _never_ be like him. Not even on your worst day." He promised.

If she strained her eyes hard enough, she could see the faint glow of gold whispering in his veins. Fire that could burn away evil. Evil in Jonathan, evil in her. Her thumb traced over the veins on the back of his hand. "Maybe if I kill him, I'll be destroying the evil inside me. I could be good. Like you and Clary."

"Lizze…" He whispered. He pulled her in for a hug. "You're already good. Everyone knows that, everyone who's opinion matters anyway."

She sighed, nestling her head into the crook of his neck. "I could be better. And that's what I want, to be better. I don't want to have any connection to him at all."

He stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders. "You know I love you, right?"

She frowned. "Of course, I do. You remind me pretty frequently."

The corner of his mouth dragged up in a half-smile. He cupped the left side of her face. "I was never angry about your plan. I just worry about you and I love you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you. And when it comes to Sebastian…"

"I know." She groaned. "Niceties for the Morgenstern twins are off the table. I've been promoted to kill-on-sight for him."

"Exactly. And I know you're good, you're one of the best. Maybe even the best. But when it comes to him…"

Jonathan was the better fighter. He always had been. It was because he didn't emotion cloud his judgment or thinking. Which was why, when it came down to it, neither would she.

"I know." She repeated, firm with a nod. "By the way, I love you too."

Jace had a smile that could easily outshine the smile. It was the smile that only occurred when he was truly happy. Which, in that moment, was true. He leaned forward, slow but sure, as if to kiss her. He drew to a stop, their lips only millimeters apart.

"We shouldn't." His voice was quiet, nearly lost over the rippled of the nearby canal.

She closed her eyes. She knew that, knew the answer was coming. It was a dangerous business, the two of them kissing. Even touching proved harmful sometimes.

"Then we won't." She said with a smile. "Come on. We should get home."

He nodded and let his hand fall. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. Warmth surged through her and an idea sparked.

 _Maybe he could burn the evil from her…_


	46. Chapter 46

"Can we go somewhere tomorrow?" The words were out of Clary's mouth as soon as the door to their shared bedroom was closed.

In her absence from the house, it seemed the trading of beds had occurred. Rather than the one queen sized bed, there were now two twin beds.

"Depends on where it is you want to go." Eliza hung her cloak on the back of the door. "If it's outside the city, bets are Mom says no."

Clary laughed but didn't disagree. With their psycho murdering brother running around God knows where, they couldn't be too safe. "Inside Alicante. I was thinking that since I've been a Shadowhunter and training for about four months now, it was time I got a weapon of my own…"

Eliza's eyes sparked and she whipped around. She all but jumped onto Clary's bed. "Yes! We'll go first thing in the morning! What are you thinking? Knives? You have really good aim, you know. Like when you hit that wolf in the hotel. Or maybe-."

"I was thinking about a sword."

Eliza's eyes widened and she sat back. "Really?"

Clary nodded. "Is that…it's okay with you?"

"Of course, it's okay with me! Every Morgenstern needs a sword, that's what Father always said. And I know you're more of a Fairchild, but you're a Morgenstern. And that means you need a sword."

"You're sure?"

Eliza leaned forward and grabbed both her sister's hands. "Come here." She led Clary from the bed over to her unpacked bag. She threw open the top and dug through it until she found her favorite white dress. On normal Shadowhunter circumstances, it would have been a summer mourning dress. And in a way, it had been. But for her, it was a tangible remembrance of the first time she'd laid eyes on Jace.

She unfolded the dress, revealing her sword. She pulled it out and stood back up. "Here, take it."

Carefully, Clary took it. Her hand curled around the hilt.

"Good. How's it feel?"

"Heavy." Clary admitted.

Eliza laughed quietly. "You just aren't used to it yet. You're used to lighter weapons. You'll adjust."

Clary licked over her bottom lip. She spent several moments weighing the sword in her hand and balancing it out. "Why _Eosphoros_?" She asked.

Eliza sat on the edge of her bed. "It means Morning-Bringer. The original swords, _Heosphoros_ and _Phaesphoros_ were made with the intention of symboling the attributes of the morning star. Dawn-Bringer and Light-Bringer. Pieces of our name, fit for our hands."

"Which one is Sebastian's?" Clary handed the sword back to her. Smart girl, hilt first.

Eliza swallowed. She hated that name. Hated the way at which everyone succumbed to the name he wanted. She'd never fall to it. He would always be Jonathan. " _Heosphoros_ , the son's sword, Dawn-Bringer. It's lost. Has been since before the Uprising. He carries _Phaesphoros_ , the father sword. Valentine always promised he would find _Heosphoros_ and return it, but he never did."

Clary sat back on her own bed. She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands. "Must have killed him seeing you get a family sword when his was lost."

Eliza smirked. "It's probably part of the reason he hates me so much. He never thought I was worthy of the name and yet I still got a Morgenstern sword." She chuckled, shaking her head. "Not to mention it was made for me. There were always two, one for the father and one for the son. They've been passed down through generations. Mom said after I was born, Valentine went, and had it made for me. Jonathan's was an heirloom, pre-destined for him, but mine was _special_."

That, she took pride in. It was a small victory she allowed herself. One family claim she would take.

"They say our family used to be great. Before Valentine." Clary said quietly.

"We were. Good and strong. Respected. And now…we're this. Shadowed by a stain that will never wash clean." Her fingers ran along the edge of the sword's blade.

"We'll change that. You and me. We'll make it better." Clary promised. Eliza looked over at her. "We'll make it known for something good again."

Eliza nodded firmly. "Together."

At that, the two decided to settle in for the night. Content, Eliza dreamt of a triple set of swords and the bleaching of a dark stain from the sky.

* * *

The day was clear. Not so much warm in the dead of December, but it was a clear day and Eliza's mind was only focused on one thing. Weapons.

Weapons were her greatest material love. Simple and basic, easy to understand, easier to wield. For her, anyway. She was most at home with slips of throwing knives and a sword (her own, above all else), but any weapon at all felt better than no weapon. _Chakrams_ were a third-choice weapon (maybe she just really liked to throw things) and everything else fell below.

"Beautiful, huh?" She let a finger slide over the slick edge of an axe on the wall.

Clary had not uttered a word since they entered Diana's Arrow minutes before. Awe-induced green eyes traversed over the contents that littered the walls and the tables. For a few moments, her gaze had been stuck on the gold chandelier that hung above them.

"When did she start wanting a sword?" Jace murmured into Eliza's ear as she admired a gorgeous longsword that had a delicately colored pommel in a shade of turquoise.

Eliza shrugged. She didn't have a precise answer. Clary had simply said she wanted one, not when she had decided in favor of the weapon. Not that Eliza was disagreeing. She couldn't wait for her sister to get her hands on a sword so she could teach her everything that she knew. In a nicer and more informal way than what she herself had been taught. No lashes for Clary.

"Emma Carstairs said I needed a better weapon." Clary's eyes were set on a longsword with a thick iron hilt. "Figured if a twelve-year old said something, it was time I got my own weapon."

The difference, Eliza decided not to verbalize, was that Emma Carstairs had been raised a Shadowhunter. Clary had not.

"And this is the best place for it."

Eliza's eyes narrowed at the woman stationed behind the counter. She had recognized her immediately, from the moment they stepped into the shop. It was hard to misplace a woman who had a koi fish inked onto her face.

"Do you own this place?" Clary asked. Her hand outstretched towards the longsword.

Jace shook his head at her. "Too long for you." He advised. "But you are pretty short so."

Clary's gaze darkened at his joke. She took height jokes a lot of the time. She was disgraced on the height genetic. Not that Eliza could say much, she only had a few inches on her.

"Yes. My name is Diana Wrayburn."

"You want a short-sword." Eliza instructed her sister. "You can't fight with something that's bigger than you."

Taking both pieces of advice to head, Clary opted to turn her attention to a short-sword that was hanging on the wall close by. There were runic letterings scratched into the surface of the blade. "What are these?" Clary asked Diana.

"Viking runes. The sword is heavy." Clary asked what they meant. " _Only the Worthy_. You can tell a lot about weapon from whether it has an inscription or a name."

Clary recounted Emma Carstairs' weapon and its inscription. The comment struck up a conversation between Clary and Diana. Growing bored, Eliza turned her own attention to the table behind her. A hefty looking morning star was laid out, the spikes shining and sharp. She poked the pad of her index finger against one of the spikes. The small contact drew a speck of blood.

Now _that_ was a weapon.

"Interested?" Jace whispered.

She shrugged. Morning stars weren't exactly her forte and she didn't really have the room on her person for another weapon. "It's pretty."

"You think all weapons are pretty." He pointed out.

A truth. It was easy for her to get lost in the admiration of all things sharp and harmful.

"There's a certain beauty in things that can kill you with a single blow."

"Must be why I think you're so beautiful."

She spun and gawked at him. "Jace!" She smacked her hand across his chest.

He chuckled before rubbing the spot on his arm. "What? Too soon?"

She was on the verge of answering with a stern reprimand before a single word burned through her ears. _Morgenstern_. Bespoke from her sister's mouth. Clary was standing in front of the counter. Diana stood opposite, a short-sword laid out on the glass countertop.

When Eliza's eyes landed on the sword, the first word that came to mind was _beautiful_. The pommel, grip, and cross-guard were a dark mixture of obsidian, black and infinite. A blade cured from a silver that was dark enough she nearly mistook it for black. The piece of the blade that caught her eye and made her stomach churn though, was the gentle pattern of dark stars that ran down the center.

"Oh, my God." Eliza's hands curled around the edge of the counter.

Diana's eyebrows lifted. "Years ago," she told Clary, "Wayland the Smith was commissioned to craft a set of swords. One for a father and one for a son. Light-Bringer and Dawn-Bringer. _Phaesphoros_ and _Heosphoros_. Valentine Morgenstern carried _Phaesphoros_ and in his death, Sebastian Morgenstern takes the sword."

Eliza narrowed her eyes. "We know that. And I'm sure that you already knew that." She snarled. "You know who we are." Not a question. Eliza figured there wasn't a Shadowhunter in Alicante, or even Idris, who didn't know.

"Our world is not so large. I've seen your testimony," she looked at Clary before averting back to Eliza, "and watched you take the Angel's Sword."

"Where did you get the sword?" Clary asked her.

All those years, the son's sword was supposed to be lost. Somewhere to probably never be found. And all along, it sat in a weapons shop right inside the city. Mere miles from the son it was destined for.

"Your mother sold it to my father shortly before the Uprising." Diana informed. For some reason, Eliza wasn't surprised. Jocelyn Fairchild continued to amaze her. "The sword should belong to you."

Clary shook her head and stepped back from the counter. She said she didn't want the sword. She had seen what the larger of the swords could do and the monsters who wielded it and she wanted no part of that. "Morgensterns are nothing but evil."

Both Diana and Jace's eyes fell on Eliza.

"I take severe offense to that." Eliza said lightly.

Clary's face softened. "You know I didn't mean you."

Eliza nodded thoughtfully. She knew that, she really did. She locked eyes with Diana before picking up the sword. She leveled it. Well-balanced. Not too heavy, not light either. Perfect. Just like her own.

"You're a Morgenstern too, Clary." Jace reminded.

Eliza flipped the sword in her hand two times. "It's a good sword." She said softly. Pressuring, easing. She could be manipulative, when she wanted. It was the sword of the son, but traditions could be broken. Clary could take it.

Eliza didn't often entertain the idea of fate. Not on matters such as that. On a bigger scale, perhaps. Such as Jace. She and Jace, specifically. Not swords. But this, it wasn't any sword. It was _Heosphoros_ , a Morgenstern blade. And no one else could have it but a Morgenstern. One worthy of wielding it. And that person was Clary.

"It's too expensive." Clary dismissed. "Black gold _and_ gold. Too much." She shook her head.

Eliza didn't have much money to her own name, but she was more than willing to pawn a few of her items off. Clary had to have the sword. Even if it meant Eliza had to pawn off her throwing knives.

She was about to offer up her suggestion when Diana intervened. "It's yours, if you want." She said. "People tell stories of these swords, you know. Dark magic mixed in the metal. It belongs to a Morgenstern."

A sword. A _free_ sword. A free Morgenstern sword. There was no better offer.

"I don't want it." Clary sighed.

Eliza turned the sword inward, letting the blade skim under where her shoulder and chest met. The hilt faced Clary. "Try." She urged. She gave a nod of encourage and Clary took the sword. "How's this one feel?"

Clary nodded, balancing the sword out. "Light as a feather."

Eliza grinned. "Normal, right?" She asked. "Like it's part of you."

"Yeah." Clary breathed.

"It's yours." Eliza enforced. "You're a Morgenstern by blood and the sword is meant for a Morgenstern. _Heosphoros_ is yours."

Clary lowered the weapon. Her eyes were clouded over with indecision. "But-."

"Remember what we said?" She leaned against the counter. "You and me. Together. We'll make it better, right?"

Polish the name. Make it known for something good again. They could never erase the stain, but maybe they could clean it up a bit. The two of them. Valentine's daughters. Morgensterns, Fairchilds.

Jace laced his fingers in with hers, giving a gentle squeeze. Her eyes flickered as Diana caught something out of the air. A little slip of paper materialized from the piece of light. Diana's eyes flitted over the paper. Her eyebrows turned down, mouth forming a tight line.

"What is it?" Eliza asked.

"There was an attack on the London Institute."

Jace's hand tightened around hers. "What? When?"

Diana laid the paper on the counter. "No one is dead. There were some injuries. But they didn't manage to capture or kill any of Sebastian's forces."

Eliza yanked her hand from Jace's. She drove her hands through her hair before leaning over, doubling her body down. Her hands placed themselves on her knees.

"Liz…?" Jace whispered.

His hand was on her back. She pushed her hand out and he took a step away. " _Don't_." She hissed. She pulled herself up straight and took a deep breath. "I just…I need a second, okay?"

He nodded.

Her fist slammed against the edge of the wooden table that housed the morning star. "God damn it." That ever familiar and too present bubbled up in her stomach. Too much rage, too much hate. Darkness. Sweeping, sinister. She squinted her eyes shut, trying her best to push it all away. "He doesn't- he won't give up."

"Liz, no one was killed. Everyone is gonna be fine." Clary assured her.

Fine? No one there was fine. And they wouldn't be. No one- Shadowhunter, Downworlder, mundane- would be safe until Jonathan was dead.

Her eyes met Jace's. All in that brief look, so much was shared. Understanding, concern, a single thought. _Do what you have to do._

"This can't go on any longer. We can't just sit here, walled up in the city while he's out there bloodying his hands more." Eliza gripped her hands into fists. "I'm not going to just wait for him to come. He has to be stopped."

Luckily, her sister and boyfriend were in no disagreement. They hated him just as much as she did. Jonathan couldn't be allowed to traipse and walk freely any longer. He couldn't be allowed to kill at his own leisure or promote terror.

Clary gripped the sword a little tighter in her hand. "Together." She said firmly.

* * *

The door to the bedroom closed with a soft, but quiet intensity. Eliza didn't bother glancing up from the blade of her sword.

"I want to be alone, Jace."

"Not Jace."

At that, she looked back. The sight of her soon-to-be stepfather leaning against her bedroom door caused her hand to still as it wiped a rag in repetitive circles across the sword's blade. It was pristinely clean, gleaming, but it was all she had to draw her mind away from other thoughts. It was either clean her sword until her hands cramped or throw knives until her wrists locked up and she didn't think anyone would appreciate holes in the wall. Amatis' house didn't have a training room of any kind and she had no clue where to go for decent target practice.

"Same goes for you too, Luke. I don't want to be bothered."

Luke sat down on the edge of Clary's bed. "I didn't think you did. But wanting and needing something aren't the same."

Eliza let go of the rag and placed the sword carefully on the floor. "Sure, they are." She told him. "I want to kill my brother and I also need to kill him."

She didn't like saying that she wanted to take the life of someone. Then again, Jonathan wasn't really someone anymore. He never had been. He had never been the son that Jocelyn wanted, the boy he should have been. He was the foot soldier to their father's cause and now the general of his own twisted army. What a promotion.

"I remember a couple months ago when Jace was dragging you off at the crack of dawn to track Sebastian down so you could do the same thing to Valentine. How'd that turn out for you?"

She grimaced. Not very well. "Could've gone better." She muttered. A lot better, actually. Valentine had died, sure. But not before he had killed both she and Jace. And yes, they were brought back. But, by the Angel, at what cost? "If you're trying to scare me off from going after him, it isn't going to work. I don't care what happens to me but trying to kill him is better than waiting here while he's out there murdering innocent people."

And really, no one was truly innocent. No one's soul was so bathed in pure and heavenly white. But that didn't mean they deserved death.

"How are you going to get out of the city? Just gonna try and sneak out?"

She got to her feet and picked up her sword. Tossing the weapon on the bed, she looked Luke dead in the face. "You seem to be forgetting that I offered myself up on a silver platter to Consul Hightower and the rest of the Council. They don't have any other option right now other than me. And I'm betting that after the London attack, they won't hesitate to send me out there."

All she had to do was present herself and her weapons in front of them and say she was ready. She was the only option they had to take down Jonathan. Beggars couldn't be choosers. Not with Nephilim lives on the line. Really though, what she needed was a way to get the heavenly fire from Jace and into her sword. That was the only way she could assuredly kill Jonathan. Burn the evil out and take his life at the same time. A done deal.

But the Silent Brothers were nowhere close on figuring that out. And she doubted Raziel wanted to be summoned again. Especially by her.

"Eliza, I can't say that I know exactly how you feel, because I don't. But I understand this…drive to fix the mess that your father and brother have made. It's not your responsibility alone to clean up after them."

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She didn't want to clean up the mess! She wanted it gone. She wanted them both gone from the world and erased from existence. Dead. Burned. Buried. Whatever. Rotting away in Hell or Edom or wherever damned souls were sent. She needed people to know that she was a Morgenstern, but she wasn't tainted. She wasn't Valentine. She wasn't Jonathan. She was Eliza and she was _good_.

"I'm the only one who can, Luke." She whispered. "I know…" she sat down on the end of her bed, only a few feet from where Luke sat, "I know I've failed in the past but everything that was holding me back then, it's gone. I can do it. I have to."

Luke sighed before looking back at her. "You aren't a killer, Eliza. I know you think that because of what was done to you, that you're bad, but you aren't. Taking a life, taking the life of your brother, it won't be an easy thing to do. Killing demons isn't the same as killing a person."

She shook her head. Luke was good, but he wasn't that good. "You know, I remember everything from those weeks Jace and I were with him. All of it. And I wasn't like Jace. I wasn't subservient to whatever Jonathan wanted. I wasn't blank in the head. Everything I did, I did because I _wanted_ to. I liked that feeling, that freedom. There were no consequences for my actions, no repercussions I had to face. For the first time, I was really free. I had nothing to worry about at all." She leaned forward, resting her forearms against her thighs. She clasped her hands together and looked down at the floor. "Luke, I killed people. Not because I had to or because they deserved. I did it because I wanted. I know how to take a life and I know how it feels. And if I have to lose myself in the darkness to do what I have to, I will."

"And if you die?"

That, she knew, was a strong possibility. Jonathan was stronger than her and he nearly always beat her in fights. But she had one thing he didn't. A cause. Sure, he wanted to rule the world or whatever nonsense he was spouting. Who didn't at some point or anything? But she had a reason, a real one. Family and friends. The entire world, Shadow and not. She had a seven billion reasons and counting to beat him and all of that meant more than what he believed in.

She had something else, too. Something new. Jonathan would always be her brother, but she didn't see him that way anymore. He was just another demon, another monster, that had sleazed into their world. Something that needed killed. There was nothing remotely human to him. He had never been a brother to her in anything but blood. Letting go of the deep held, near subconscious idea that the humanity in him could be reached was the edge she needed. He was nothing but a shell. Nothing to her.

"You don't sound very confident in me." She muttered. "What happened to me being one of the best?"

Luke snorted. "You are. You're a remarkable fighter, Eliza. But so is he. And you have people to think about. Your family, your mom and me, Clary. The Lightwoods. Magnus. Your friends, like Simon and Maia. Jace."

"They've all been hurt by my family. So many people have been. If it takes my life to pay for everything Valentine and Jonathan have done, so be it. If I have to lay down on the line to save the lives of everyone else, I will."

"You're seventeen. You shouldn't have to."

Seventeen. She remembered that birthday. Nothing special, save for the fact that just a short year after and she'd be free. A legal adult by Nephilim standards. She hadn't been gifted anything special, not a real present. Just the information that her father had a special task for her.

 _You must go to New York and locate the Angel's Cup, girl._

Suddenly, for the first time in her life, out of his hands. Away from her brother. Safe. Alone. She would find the Cup, turn it, and her family, over to the Clave, and never have to go back to him again.

That had worked out _so_ well for her.

Now, she had four months until she was an adult. A legal one, anyway.

"I don't see anyone else lining up." She said in a sour voice. "And I don't know of anyone else with the right blood, either. You know, the kind that puts a little bit more air in your jump. A little pep in your step." I.e. no other special experiments. No one with an extra dosage of a little something something. Luke reminded her that both Jace and Clary had angel's blood. They were special, too. Stronger.

Four. Four special Shadowhunters. Two of the heavens. Two of hell. Three locked up safe in Idris. One running around shoving his sword through people. But there was only one who could really take Jonathan.

"The key word in that sentence is _angel_ , Luke. They're good, extra good because of it. And I'm not underestimating them because I know better. Jace is an exceptional fighter. He's fought me on several occasions, and he does have the capability of going head-to-head with my brother. And Clary is spectacular for someone so new. But-."

"But you're better?"

She huffed air through her nostrils. Unsurprised that he went that direction. A lot of people did. She did have a touch of arrogance in herself. "That's not where I was going." She shook her head. "I love Jace. And I love Clary more." A widely known fact. Jace was her boyfriend, but Clary was her sister. Her little sister. There was no one she cared about more. "That's why I can't let them near this. If-when I go, I go alone. They're strong, but they're two of the most important people to me and I won't let them get hurt. Besides, you've met them. Do you think they're killers?"

Luke paused. Anyone could be a killer, in the right circumstance. If the situation called for it. Jace had killed Declan, after all. "You never know. Anything is possible."

"My mind is made up, Luke. It's going to be me. And there's nothing anyone can do to stop me."

* * *

"Eliza!"

She hadn't been asleep. She hadn't. Just thinking a very blank, leisurely piece of nothing with her eyes closed and breathing steady.

Eliza had not been asleep, but she had been startled near death when the door to the bedroom flew open.

"Mom?"

Jocelyn was wild-eyed and tense. "Come on! To the Gard!"

She jolted up from the bed. On instinct, she grabbed her sword. Did she need it? Maybe, maybe not. Was it better to have it just in case? Absolutely.

Jocelyn's hand wrapped around her wrist as she reached the door. Her mother pulled her through the house out into the night. Luke was waiting for them on the front doorstep. And then they were speed walking through the cobblestone streets. Massed together with the tens of other Nephilim headed to the same destination.

In the distance, red and gold sparked the dark of the sky. Upon a lengthened inspection, she realized the lights weren't the sparks of a fire, but the warning signs of the demon towers that littered the outskirts of Alicante.

"What's happened? What's going on?" The question wasn't directed at any specific person. Just someone willing to provide an answer.

"Attack." Luke provided.

 _Another?_

Where? When? Who? So many thoughts and questions bombarded her brain, swirling around one another like crowded fish in a bowl. At least, until two bright, flashing words halted her in her steps.

Clary.

Jace.

"Eliza!" Jocelyn yanked on her wrist. "We have to go!"

"Where are-?"

Her mother's face molded into sympathy before she gave her another hard tug and they were once again on the way. "Hopefully there or on the way."

She didn't know. And neither did Eliza.

"Where was it? The attack?" She asked Luke as they continued on. "When?"

Luke grimaced. "It's still happening."

Had it not been for her mother's stern grip, Eliza would have faltered again. _Still happening?_

First London and now this? Two in a day? Jonathan, whatever he was up to, was getting anxious. By the time they reached the Gard, Jocelyn's steel grip on her wrist hadn't loosened. The crowd grew to a pause at the front gates. Normally closed but now bared open to the public. The squared courtyard was home to a massive Portal. An active one.

"Luke-." Eliza glanced up at him.

His hand was resting on Jocelyn's shoulder. Her mother's attention thrown everywhere in search of Clary. Imperceptibly, he shook his head. _Now's not the time._

But if it wasn't, when was?

Robert Lightwood stood in front of the gates. In front of him were the two people her eyes had been scouring over for ever since being pulled from the house. The wind from the Portal blew over them. Clary had _Heosphoros_ in her hand.

Eliza jerked free of her mother's grip and took off. She weaved through the burgeoning crowd of Shadowhunters before making it to her destination.

"You're okay! Thank the Angel." She pulled her sister in for a side hug.

Clary hugged her back. "Mom and Luke?"

Eliza nodded her head in the direction she had come. Jace put his hand on the place where her neck met her shoulder. "There was another attack?" She looked at Robert Lightwood. "Where is he?"

Jia Penhallow cut through the crowd, making her way to the side of the Portal. "Sebastian Morgenstern has attacked the Adamant Citadel! All Nephilim who are armed and ready, come to me! We must help our Iron Sisters!"

Eliza swallowed. She looked back into the crowd, her gaze connecting with Luke's. _No_ , his face said. She had to go. Chances out of Alicante were few and far between and she couldn't pass it up.

"I'm going." She stated, looking back at the Inquisitor himself. "Let me go."

"Liz-." Jace started.

"Eliza, you aren't an adult yet. We have the numbers without having to send in children to fight."

She wasn't a child, not by any means except the law. She had never been a child. Only a soldier. A warrior. Someone to fight and someone to win.

"If you want this over, if you want him dead, you'll send me through that Portal."

Jace gracefully, carefully, pulled her away from his adoptive father. The gold of his eyes was dark with questioning. "What are you hiding?" He asked.

Robert said nothing in response. Just then, two women in gear walked behind them. Both were talking animatedly about the attack. Capturing the Endarkened warriors. Turning them back, saving them.

Eliza frowned. Didn't they know…?

"You can't be serious." Clary whispered, meeting Robert's eye. "You can't let people whose loved ones are Endarkened go through that Portal. And you can't keep letting them think that their relatives can be saved."

"We aren't sure of all the possibilities." Robert countered.

"There aren't any possibilities." Eliza told him. "Only one. Those people can't be saved or fixed. What's done is done. They aren't Shadowhunters anymore, they aren't even human."

Clary agreed with her. "If you send those people through that Portal, they're going to meet their family members in battle, and they'll stop. They'll hesitate and-."

"And be killed." Jace cut her off. His face was pallid with disbelief. "You can't let this happen." Robert said it was the decision of the Clave and it would be done. "There's no point in sending them. Save yourself some time and energy and just kill them here and now."

"This is not a joking matter, Jace!"

"I wasn't joking."

Shadowhunters were starting to be sent through the Portal. Old, young. Completely decked in gear and weapons. Jia Penhallow was directing them, encouraging them. Sending pigs to the slaughter with a few energized words.

"Fifty Shadowhunters can take twenty Endarkened." Robert told them.

"You really think he only has twenty soldiers with him?" Eliza asked. "My brother is a lot of things, but he isn't a fool." Robert said there was no way he had backup. He had attacked by going over land and their luck in having been watching the Citadel was a gift. "You're being reckless and stupid. You're sending people to their deaths."

"He's a boy!" Robert shouted at her. "Sebastian Morgenstern is just a boy! He can be beat, and he will be. Today." At that, he turned and stormed towards Jia.

Eliza licked over her bottom lip. Her hand tightened around the hilt of her sword. Her eyes were glued to the Portal. One chance. Another most likely wouldn't come. She glanced around. No one was really paying any mind…

"Liz?"

His voice, always that sweet gasp of air after being under the water for so long. The first hint of sunlight after a storm.

"Hmm?"

"What're you thinking…?"

She swallowed before meeting his eye. "That I love you." She smiled. "And, I'm sorry."

His smile, quick and easy, fell to a frown. "Sorry? For what?"

"Liz, what-?" Clary began.

"I love you guys, but don't follow me. And tell Mom I'm sorry, will you?" She looked at Clary. "What, Liz-?"

She pushed past them, walking quickly in the direction of the Portal. Blood pumped loudly in her ears, blocking out the sound of the two people she loved most yelling her name. Her pace quickened and she was running. The Portal brightened the closer she drew to it, the wind heavy and strong. Gravity ceased to exist as she jumped through and she became weightless.

* * *

In hindsight, her only issue with her decision was that she did not bring a coat. It was cold, and with the nighttime, colder still. Snow coated the ground, ice slicked the spots where snow was bare.

"Liz!"

Her shoulders tightened. Her head whipped back to see her boyfriend and her sister running towards her. Annoyance shot through her. They never listened.

"Are you two nuts?" She hissed. "What part of _don't follow m_ e did you not understand?"

Clary stared back at her. "Did you really think we were just going to stay behind?"

Eliza sighed, relaxing her shoulders. No, she supposed she did not. But one could hope. "Go back. Right now. This is my fight and I don't want you two anywhere near it. If he hurts either of you-."

Jace reached out with his free hand, taking hers. He held an unfamiliar longsword in his other hand. He squeezed her hand gently. "He won't. And really, we can't go back. They closed the Portal right after we came through."

 _Fantastic._

"You're stuck with us." Clary grinned.

The whole situation made her uneasy. Not just the fact that she had put herself in the middle of fight against Jonathan and his force of Endarkened (there had to be more than twenty). More than anything, it was that Clary and Jace had blindly followed her into said fight.

Once again, she was the reason they were in danger.

"You're both incredibly stupid for-."

Her own words were halted, completely abandoned as the Adamant Citadel appeared before them. She had never seen the Citadel, let alone thought she would ever see it with her own eyes. But there she stood. There it stood. Purely made from _adamas_ , gleaming like a beacon against the darkness of the night. The Citadel was circled by a wall, also built from _adamas_ , that only had one gate to pass through. Fashioned as two magnificent swords dashed into the earth.

The massive scape of the world continued to stretch out beyond the Citadel. The volcanic plain they stood on, the flurrying snow. Everything and nothing.

And there, in front of the gates were spots of blood red. Closing off access to the Citadel. Denying any aid that the Shadowhunters sent could give. The Endarkened.

Eliza gripped her sword and silently wished she had another weapon. Or two. Perhaps a couple seraph blades, a few throwing knives.

"Where is Sebastian?" Clary asked quietly. "Or the Iron Sisters?"

That was the million-dollar question. _Where was Jonathan staking himself out?_ He was too unpredictable, there were too many possible scenarios. He could be locked away in the Citadel, hording the Iron Sisters in with him. The Sisters could be dead. Or, and she wasn't sure if she favored this idea or not, he was staged as an Endarkened. Hood up, face covered. Lying in wait like a snake in the tall grass.

"The Sisters will be inside the Citadel. Protecting what they can." Jace answered. "He's here for the weapons, I think."

There was no doubt in her mind that Jonathan had attacked for the sole purpose of the weapons stored inside the Citadel. She didn't think there was anything else in there worth his attention. "The Iron Sisters would sooner tear down the Citadel than let him in the armory. And he knows that-."

A high-pitched scream cut off the rest of her words. Jace moved forward towards the Citadel but she jerked him back. She spun him backwards, towards the scream. The blood-chilling noise came from a Shadowhunter, falling to the ground as the blade of an Endarkened protruded from his chest.

The Endarkened looked up from the body. He was large, thickset, seeming bigger even in the dark red gear. Blond hair, terrorizing grin not so unlike the one her brother sported.

"Jason!" It was the same woman they had heard back at the Gard talking about the possibility of saving the Endarkened. "Please stop this, Jason." She pleaded, stepping towards him.

The Endarkened withdrew another weapon from his gear belt, eyes narrowed in anticipation.

"Don't!" Clary warned her. "Don't get any closer!"

Unsurprisingly, she didn't listen to Clary's warning. She was just inches from him. Only a step or two from his grasp. "This isn't you, Jason. You're a Shadowhunter, Nephilim. Sebastian Morgenstern can't make you do anything you don't want to. Come with us and we can fix you. We can-."

The man- Jason- let out a dark laugh as his secondary blade slashed out towards her. The woman's head slid off her shoulders. Nausea rolled through Eliza's stomach as dark blood puddled on the ground, seeping and turning the snow dark.

Screams erupted throughout the crowd.

"Eliza…" Jace murmured.

She blinked and looked back at him. He was pointing ahead. From where the Portal had been, a force of Endarkened were marching towards them.

Trap. It was a trap. She knew it.

The Shadowhunters around them rose to a panic. They had been told only twenty Endarkened. This was too many. Too many to fight. Too many to survive against.

"Hammer and anvil!" Jace shouted out. "Hammer and anvil!"

Eliza grabbed onto him by the wrist. "Jace." His eyes were darting around, surveying. "Jace!" They snapped back to her, dark with worry and…something. "Get Clary somewhere safe. Somewhere she can make a Portal. You have to get these people out of here, they won't make it."

"Liz-."

" _Jace_." She stressed. "This is it, okay? This is where we say goodbye."

He shook his head fervently, whispering _no_ over and over. "I'm not doing that. I'm not saying goodbye."

She swallowed, throwing a wayward glance to the oncoming enemies. Closer and closer. Time was of the essence and she didn't have much to work with. Not enough to kiss him properly, like she wanted, to let the contents of her heart pour out. She didn't have the time to tell Clary how much she meant to her or how proud she was to have such a kickass little sister.

There was never enough time.

"Keep her safe. Protect her."

"Lizzie-."

"'Til next time, Jace."

She shoved him backwards. His eyes met hers one last time and with the gaze, she knew he was resigned with understanding. She watched him grab Clary's wrist and pull her away.

"Liz!" Her sister called out.

But she didn't answer.

She relaxed her shoulders, closing her eyes for only a moment. Balanced _Eosphoros_ in her grip. _Protect them, Raziel. It's all I'll ever ask._ A deep breath before she let the slow-building and ever present wave of darkness rise up inside her. A mixture of everything bad- anger, resentment, fear- pent up and stored away. Just for this, when she needed it most. Not as blatant as when she had been tied to her brother, but enough to give her an extra boost.

She opened her eyes just in time to see an Endarkened headed straight for her.

Eliza drew up her sword and lunged for the Dark Shadowhunter. His blade met hers with a clang of metal against metal. Jonathan's Endarkened were strong, stronger than normal Shadowhunters. So, maybe if she had been a normal Shadowhunter, she would have been beat. But she wasn't.

She forced his sword down and swung again, knocking the weapon from his grasp. The sword flew through the air and landed several feet away. She slashed back, the edge of her sword slicing against his chest, through the gear and straight into skin. The Dark Shadowhunter fell back into the snow.

"Here we go, then." She muttered as she adjusted her grip. And then she turned her sights to the Citadel. "I'm coming, Jonathan."


	47. Chapter 47

_Eosphoros_ ' blade was slick and dark with blood. She could feel sticky dots flecked on her face, some drying, others fresh and new. It was on her clothes. The cut on her cheek had stung at first, but now she could barely remember that it was there. There was another cut, a little deeper, on her left bicep. More than anything, she wished she was in gear. She wished she had gear on, and she wished she had more than a sword.

More than once, she had considered picking up the weapons of the dead, but it didn't sit well with her. Something about it felt disrespectful and wrong. So, she fought only with a sword.

Without so much a second thought- maybe not even a first- she shoved her sword through the back of an Endarkened who was fighting off a Shadowhunter. She yanked her sword out and let the woman fall to the ground.

Eliza said nothing before moving on. She was too close to the Citadel to give up. Too close to Jonathan. He was just inside the-.

Something grabbed onto the ends of her hair and jerked her backwards. She stumbled back before regaining her footing. An Endarkened stared back at her. "Morgenstern."

Déjà vu and uneasiness bubbled up. Something similar had occurred at the Burren.

"Part of my fan club?" She swung, the edge of her sword cutting into his shoulder.

"Your brother wants you for himself."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Sounds gross."

He reached for her in an attempt to grab. In his hurried movement, she spied the dagger on his belt. She dodged his hands with a duck. She kicked her leg out, swiping it through against his ankles. He fell, and in the motion, she reached and swiped the dagger from his belt. The Dark Shadowhunter landed on his front against the ground.

"Oooh, my bad."

He pushed up and got to his feet. His hand felt at his belt for the dagger.

"Looking for this?" She held up the dagger. "Couldn't help myself. I like sharp objects."

The Endarkened rushed towards her. Almost lazily, she slashed the dagger against his throat. Blood sprayed and she kicked him back.

"Hmm." She hummed. "I may have missed this just a little."

The gate was only feet away from her. So close she could feel _Eosphoros_ being pushed through Jonathan's heart.

An Endarked darted towards the gate. A mace tucked under his arm as he ran from the battle. He slid through the paired swords, body halfway through when the swords came together like a pair of scissors being closed.

Eliza winced at the sight of his blood spraying the walls. But something else caught her eye.

Clary. Pressed up against the wall, stele in hand. A person in red sneaking up behind her, sword ready.

" _No_." Eliza gritted.

She darted towards them just as the Endarkened raised her sword, leveling it to Clary's back. Clary turned, eyes wide.

"Hey! Not my sister, you piece of shit!" Eliza shouted, raising her sword.

The Dark Shadowhunter turned. Eliza faltered, not lowering her sword. Amatis. Luke's sister.

"Perfect. He'll be very pleased when he sees the two of you."

He. Jonathan.

Eliza met Clary's gaze. She nodded once and Clary dropped her stele. Eliza lowered the sword. "You're going to take us to him." She said.

"I am."

"Lead the way."

* * *

Eliza had a death grip on Clary's hand. She wasn't going anywhere without her and she certainly wasn't going to let Amatis or anyone else near her.

"Where's Jace?" She whispered. "He's supposed to be protecting you."

"We got separated in the fight." Clary murmured. "I don't…"

 _I don't know if he's alive._

She would know. She knew that. Eliza would have felt if Jace had died. And she hadn't, so he wasn't. Simple.

Amatis was pushing them closer to the battle ahead. The woman had both Clary and Eliza's swords hanging from her hips. Eliza was certain it wouldn't be too difficult to reclaim her sword from Amatis, therefore she had no real problem handing the weapon over.

"So, where is the Fearless Leader anyway?" Eliza inquired from Amatis. Several once overs of the landscape and she still hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of her brother. Or Jace, but she couldn't worry about him at the moment. He was perfectly capable of handling himself.

Clary stumbled, her feet catching on a body lying on the ground. Eliza grabbed her by the elbow. "She probably doesn't even know." Clary muttered.

That was a good point.

"I always know where Sebastian is. I am the only one he trusts to deliver the two of you to him. That is why I was made his first lieutenant." Amatis said sharply.

Eliza rolled her eyes. "Trust isn't exactly in his vocabulary." Which was quite extensive.

"She's right, Amatis." Clary added. She drew to a stop as they passed over a ridge and gestured out to the battle. "You don't mean anything to him. None of you do. All you are is a disposable army. You die and he makes more."

"I see the same thing for you. Cannon fodder for the Clave. Dead Nephilim everywhere." Amatis jutted her finger to where the Nephilim force was slowly being overcome by the Endarkened. The two pieces of Jonathan's army had circled the Shadowhunters, closing in on them. And though the Shadowhunters fought fiercely, Eliza knew they wouldn't win. The Endarkened were too strong and they were too many. "The Clave is predictable in their ways and this…this is exactly what we expected."

"Where did you bring the other Endarkened from? The Clave said there were only twenty." Clary asked her.

Luke's sister cackled. "As if I would reveal that to you. But you should know, Sebastian has more allies than you think."

The two sisters shared a look before Clary turned her attention back to Amatis. "Amatis, we know you. You took care of me when I came to Alicante. You aren't this person. You're a Shadowhunter. And Luke-."

Amatis hissed at his name. "Is a stain on the Greymark name. Downworlder scum. He would have been better off killing himself after he was first bitten. Like he was told to do."

Valentine had put the knife in his hand, given the order, and hoped it had stuck.

"He's your brother." Clary reminded her. "You were so happy to see him."

The woman jabbed the tip of her knife into the spot between Clary's shoulder blades. Eliza cut her eyes in warning. As much as she wanted to strike, take her weapon back, and put the woman on her ass, she knew better. She had to bide her time, wait to be presented to her brother.

"You are naïve, Clarissa." Amatis spoke. "You don't need the Clave, the Clave needs you. And they will drain you dry, like they did me." She turned back towards the Citadel. "It was an Iron Sister who cut my marriage Marks in two. When I screamed in pain, she did not flinch."

Eliza ran a finger over the spot where her own had been. The only reminders she had of Lilith's binding of the twins was the half-faded _parabatai_ rune and the bitter memories.

"You mistake goodness for kindness and think they are the same. But they aren't." Clary was in the process of replying when Amatis shushed her. Then, the woman stiffened. Her grey-brown hair floated out in the breeze, cold and blank eyes narrowed in concentration.

Eliza's eyes flitted to her sword before she followed Amatis' gaze down to the battle. Blood mixed in snow, bodies of the dead discarded, weapons clashing together. Seraph blades glinting with vicious movement.

Her breath caught in her throat.

A figure was moving through the chaos. Golden hair sparking, impossibly swift movements cutting down red-clad figures left and right. Fire, of the heavenly variety. He struck them down effortlessly and skillfully. The more he struck, the more fell back from him.

"Thank you." She glanced up at the sky. "Thank you."

Amatis whirled on her. "Who are you-?"

Clary's leg kicked out and curved around Amatis' ankles. The older woman tumbled down and Clary tackled her.

"Clary!"

Amatis smacked Clary and she recovered quickly. Clary's hand tugged _Heosphoros_ free from Amatis' belt and pointed the tip right at her throat.

"I wouldn't move if I were you." Clary snarled.

"Damn." Eliza whistled. "I'm impressed." She bent down and took her own sword. A few twirls of the weapon in her hand and she was good as new. "Now," she skimmed the tip in the snow close to Amatis' face, "where's my bastard of a brother hiding out?"

* * *

Amatis was, no surprise, not willing to give up any information.

"Useless. Completely and totally useless." Eliza groaned.

"He's going to-!"

"Kill me?" Eliza whipped her head back. She stared the woman down. Clary still had her on the ground, sword at throat. "Please. I've been hearing that for years. I'd like to see him-."

Try. The word went dry on her tongue. Because there, there he was. Slithering through his own orchestrated battle, just like a snake. Blood-red gear, pale blonde hair.

"Jonathan." She murmured.

Anger that she had pushed down welled back up. He was headed somewhere. Somewhere specific. Her eyes scanned over the fight before landing on the center of it. Jace. He was going to Jace.

"Do not let her go." She told Clary, motioning with her sword to Amatis. "Kill her if you have to."

"But-."

Eliza narrowed her eyes. "It's not Amatis anymore, Clary. She's not one of us, she isn't Luke's sister. She's just another demon now."

"Are you going to be okay?"

She smiled as coldness crept up in her. Spreading throughout her body, tickling down through her fingers. Up in her head. "Oh, yeah. Perfect. Gonna go have a little chat with my big brother."

She curled her fingers around the hilt of _Eosphoros_. Closing her eyes, she took a single deep breath. When she opened them, she felt… _better_. Something she hadn't felt in a while. Clear and cold. Precise and loose at the same time. That familiar freedom from not so long ago. Freedom that, then, had meant something horrible. But today, it would be good.

She ran down the ridge, boots catching little traction as they slid her forward. Almost immediately upon reaching the bottom, she was hurtled back into the fight. All she saw was a flash of red and her sword was out, slicing the Endarkened opponent in half. Well, not proportionally but there were two pieces and a lot of blood.

Her entire being was able to sense when they were both near. Fire and ice shooting through her nerves. Close, so very close.

She ducked a hit and swung her sword out again. Metal gleamed in the air and she reached her free hand out, catching the now free short-sword in it. She took a moment to admire her newly acquired weapon. Not a bad make, something she could make do with.

And then she saw them. The sun and the moon. Valentine's sons facing off against one another. Just standing there, inches from one another. Jace's swords were level with Jonathan's chest.

Jonathan was clad in the red gear of his followers. The only difference between his and theirs was the working of golden runes into his gear. Runes from the Gray Book. Shadowhunter runes.

In their stand-off, the fighting had stilled. Everyone was watching those two boys. She had been slicing and dicing her way through, but now she walked. Her boots crunched on snow and blood, weapons and the dead.

"Miss me?" Jonathan asked Jace.

"Are you serious?" Jace asked.

Jonathan grinned at him. "You know you can't kill me with some silly blade, my Jace."

Jace shrugged. "Maybe not with just a cut or two. But I'm sure if I slice you up like a watermelon or take off your head, it might slow you down a little." The ideas rolled so casually from his tongue. As if he had considered them heavily before. Or they amused him.

"Be my guest. But you'll regret it."

Eliza's knuckles went white as she gripped both the swords.

"And why is that?" Jace asked.

The wide grin hadn't yet left her brother's face. It was a smile that teetering very daringly to insanity. "Clary and Eliza. They've been captured by one of my close warriors. Any harm comes to me by you and they're as good as dead."

She _burned_. Neither of them had seen her. She had a clear advantage.

"Funny." She spoke, clear and loud. "I'm standing right here."

They both averted their eyes to her.

"Liz."

"Eliza."

She waved with the foreign sword. "Not very captured, am I?" She took a step. "But I'll tell you, I'm very, very angry with you."

Jonathan was all but gleaming at her. Dark eyes alight, mouth spread in amusement. "Here to join me?"

She laughed and then shook her head. "No, Jonathan. I'm here to kill you."

"Kill me?" He chuckled. "You can try." Jace had lowered his swords. Jonathan spun and kicked Jace's wrist. The blade skittered to the ground. Jace pitched backwards and Jonathan sliced his own sword out. The edge managed to barely catch at his ribcage.

As Jace evaded another slash, she threw herself into the fray. She slashed out at him and he met her blow.

"Can you fight us both off?" She taunted.

"Easily." He huffed. "I'm the best there's ever been. Better than both of you. Combined."

She raised an eyebrow. Jace's sword met his. "Modest, isn't he?" He asked her.

"Unnaturally." She advanced.

Jonathan's forced Jace back in time to bring his sword against hers. "You don't have it in you to kill me." He gritted, pushing her back. She planted her feet firmly before swinging _Eosphoros_ up and yanking it back down. Jonathan barely evaded the blade being plunged into his shoulder blade. "None of you can! You want to but you can't! You refuse to sacrifice for the greater good."

"You think you know us, but you don't." Jace said.

At the distraction, Eliza swung. Her sword slid against his side.

The fight became a dance between the three of them. Jonathan attacking the both of them, taking turns between them. Jace to Eliza and back again. Metal clanging against metal.

"I know Eliza. And I know Clary. And soon, I'll know her in all the ways you can possibly know another person."

Eliza halted. Her sword faltered mid-swing. Bile bubbled in her stomach. She drew the sword back and forced it forward with all her strength. "You _bastard_!" She shouted. Jonathan blocked the blow and sliced back. The force of the blow sent her stumbling backwards. She skidded to the ground.

Her back ached and her chest burned, all the breath and wind knocked from her.

Jace, blazing in anger, took Jonathan on. Her vision was blurred as she watched them spar. It was over too quickly, Jonathan knocking him down to the ground. Eliza pushed up on her hands, right hand feeling for the familiar touch of _Eosphoros_. Just as her hand closed around the hilt, Jonathan slammed his blade into Jace's shoulder.

" _Jace_!" She scrambled to her feet.

He was glowing. Heavenly fire licking and spreading up his chest to the place where the sword was stuck in him. A solitary flame shot up the blade of _Phaesphoros_. Jonathan jerked back and let the sword go, a curse spitting from his mouth. He shook out his palm, but there was a black burn mark clear as day.

Jonathan grabbed the sword and glared down at Jace.

"Try it and see what happens." Eliza warned, calling his attention. "I may not be made of heavenly fire, but I can still take your head off your shoulders."

Jonathan turned his vicious stare to her. His eyes danced around, uncertain. For a fraction of a second, she let her eyes leave him. The three of them, once surrounded by Nephilim and Endarkened, were encircled by a ring of women dressed in all white gowns. Fiery eyes. _Adamas_ swords in each of their grips. Faces tattooed the way the Silent Brothers were stitched.

 _Iron Sisters._

A Silent Brother stood among them and Eliza vaguely recalled seeing him during the fight. Vaguely.

"The Iron Sisters have not left the Citadel in six hundred years." One of them spoke. She was tall with dark roped hair that fell down to her waist. "And yet, the heavenly fire calls to us from outside our forces and we must come to it. Should you harm Jace Lightwood again, son of Valentine, we will move to destroy you."

Jonathan stared back at her. "He won't save you, Cleophas, my sisters won't save you, and neither will the heavenly fire. The Nephilim are doomed to me." He made no motion of backing down.

"Retreat." The woman- Cleophas- stated. "Be gone from this place."

Jonathan glowered but made no remark in return. Eliza readied herself as he lowered the tip of his sword closer to Jace. Her brother launched himself forward and plunged the sword into the ground.

A deep rumble passed over, shaking the world. The ground shook. Jonathan grinned. The earth beneath their feet tore open, wrenching itself apart. A trench, black and abysmal, formed from where Jonathan had sunk _Phaesphoros_ and the son of Valentine jumped into the void.

Eliza dropped her sword and dashed to Jace's side. She pressed down on the wound in his shoulder. "Pretty cool party trick you got there." She smiled uneasily.

"Thanks." He stifled a laugh with a groan. "Did it just to impress you."

The two of them were drenched in blood. It soaked their gear, coated their hair, and specked their visible skin. Iron burned her nose and she didn't think the smell would ever truly abandon her.

She examined the wound and winced. "Well, you've been stabbed by almost every Morgenstern now. Maybe we can talk Clary into doing some damage." She was not as good at diffusing tension with humor as he was. But it seemed to do the trick because he smiled back at her.

"Only if I get a medal or something."

"Daughter of Valentine, let me through to him." The Silent Brother stood over them.

She swept Jace's hair back from his paling face, her fingers lingering to slide down his jaw. With her head, she motioned a few feet away and he nodded in response. She pulled herself to her feet and moved back to let the Silent Brother examine the injury. Standing just over where she had let her weapon fall, she crossed her arms over her chest. She realized only as he set to work that the Silent Brother in question was Brother Zachariah.

The chasm that Jonathan had created had separated some of the Iron Sisters from the others. Half stood on one edge and half on the other with she and Jace. The pounding of footsteps momentarily distracted her and she turned her head back to see Clary running towards them. _Heosphoros_ swung back and forth as she ran- surely she knew better than to run carelessly with an unsheathed weapon?

"What happened?" Clary reached her, taking a deep breath.

Eliza turned her attention back to watching the Silent Brother undo Jace's gear near the wound. "One guess." She muttered.

"Sebastian."

She nodded impassively. Eliza let her eyes flicker to the chasm. _Maybe_ …A definite spark from Jace's shoulder drew her gaze back. Instead of blood, fire was flowering from the stab wound. Bright gold and delicately dangerous.

 _Apollo_ , she thought to herself. The sun himself, just as she had dreamt. "Will he be okay?"

 _In time_ , Brother Zachariah answered. He used his own stele to draw a rune on the palm of his hand and then pressed his open hand down on the gash.

The noise that escaped from her boyfriend's mouth was guttural and raw and unlike any noise she had ever heard from him before. Licks of fire fanned up and caught onto the arm of Brother Zachariah's robe. Jace cried out again and before Clary could stop her, Eliza was rushing to his other side.

She clutched his hand. "It's okay." She assured him. "Squeeze my hand."

Jace knotted his fingers into hers. He squeezed, applying as much pressure as he could against her hand. She sucked in a breath and his eyes squinted shut. Her focus had been so dead-set on him that she hadn't realized the fire had consumed Brother Zachariah and the Silent Brother had fallen back into the snow. Only after the Iron Sisters began to close ranks around them did she see what had happened.

Jace spasmed, his upper body jolting up from the ground. His neck craned as his head remained still. The Iron Sisters were chanting the name of the Silent Brother as his own cries mixed in with Jace's. Whatever he had tried to do to help Jace had gone wrong very quickly.

"Lizzie."

She shushed him, using her free hand to try and keep his body still. "I'm here. Just try to keep still, okay?"

Not that he listened at all. His elbows wobbled as he tried to use them to prop himself up. He attempted to sit up several times, but on each attempt, his elbows gave way. "What did I do to Brother Zachariah, is he okay?"

Her bottom lip worried between her teeth. "It'll be okay, Jace. Here, keep still while I try to fix you." She moved her hand from his uninjured shoulder to grab her stele. "Clary." She waved her hand.

Her sister was next to her in an instant. "What do you need me to do?"

Eliza pressed her stele into Clary's hand. Their eyes locked. Usually the same shade of green, bright and ferocious, but Eliza's eyes were dark, as abysmal as the chasm that Jonathan had opened in the earth. "Heal him. You're runes are more powerful than mine. You have to do this."

Clary nodded as she took the stele and steadied it in her hand.

"No!" Jace writhed. "Don't! I could hurt you, both of you!"

Eliza pushed her hand down on his chest, holding him in place. "Stay still." She ordered. Not that he listened. He never did. Her fingers curved around his shoulder as she forced his body against the ground. His hand squeezed hers and her fingers started to lose feeling. "Focus on me. The sound of my voice. Do you remember when we were in Greece?" The tip of the stele was pressed to the wound. "We snuck off and took that boat out on the water. You tipped us over and we decided to go skinny dipping?"

He spasmed up again. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes.

Wind gushed back against her and she looked up from his face. _Portal!_ She could see Angel Square, fuzzy and distant. But there. "Thank the Angel." She breathed.

Clary had slumped next to her. Eyes closed, hands limp. Jace himself had stilled under her hands. Eliza sighed and lowered her head.

* * *

When faced with the decision to be at the side of her near-death boyfriend or her near-death sister, Eliza chose Clary. It wasn't an easy decision for her to make. Jace and Clary were the two people she loved most in the world. But when it came down to it, she couldn't bring herself to choose him over her. Clary had expended all her energy into trying to save Jace's life and in turn, had nearly died herself. Eliza very well couldn't leave her after that.

Which was how she found herself sitting on the ground of Angel Square. Knees pulled up to her chest, arms wound around them. Clary was on the floor a few feet away, sheened in the dark blue light of Magnus' magic. She very much looked dead, but Eliza knew better. She was alive, barely, but she was alive. Her skin, normally pinked with color, was a pale white. The ends of her fingers and her lips blue from what could have been frostbite.

Her mother and Luke were both knelt on Clary's side, Magnus across from them as he worked his magic. The weight of everything had not fully set in on her yet. Jonathan's escape, the heavenly fire bursting from the seams of Jace's injury and consuming Brother Zachariah, Clary's own state of being, and all of the information that Magnus had relayed upon his arrival.

Eliza had been more than relieved to see him. She had missed him, immediately having thrown her arms around him once she laid eyes on him. And then she saw the grim look set on his face. Magnus very rarely looked forlorn. Even when upset, he tended to mask his emotions.

After attacking the London Institute, Jonathan turned his forces to the Praetor Lupus. He had killed the Praetor in charge and most of the werewolves that had been there. Jordan Kyle was dead.

She didn't know Jordan all that well, but he had been nice. Nice enough to help Jace try to not be burned alive by the heavenly fire inside of him. She knew him well enough to be sad he was gone and angry at the circumstance in which it had happened.

 _Will she be okay?_

Magnus' eyes lifted from Clary. The deep yellow focused in on her. _It will take time. Almost all her energy is depleted. Why don't you go check on Jace?_

She shook her head. She didn't want to be around him, especially not while the Silent Brothers were ministering to him. _I'd rather be with her._

 _Little dove, you need to clear your head. It's a wreck in here._

She felt him retreat and when she looked back at him, he was fully attending to Clary once more. He was right. Her mind was a mess from the day's events. Jonathan had managed three attacks, and in his wake, Jace and Clary had almost died. How many others were dead? Injured? How many more would lose their lives in the war he was waging? Or be turned into Endarkened?

She stood up and picked up her sword.

"Are you going to check on Jace?" Her mother called.

She hadn't even noticed that Simon had arrived- as for _how_ that was managed, she'd worry about later- and that Luke was speaking with him. And from the look of Simon's face and the Praetor Lupus pendant hanging between them, he was filling Simon in on a few things.

"No." She answered. She whisked by Magnus and Clary and picked up her stele.

"Then where-?"

Jocelyn's eyebrows were knit in confusion. Eliza leaned and kissed her on the temple. "Don't worry. I'm not going after him. Yet."

Jocelyn said nothing else.

Without another word, Eliza walked away from her family. One question rang out in her mind: _Would she ever see them again?_

* * *

The toe of her boot nudged open the door. The cottage was as it had been the last time she had stepped foot inside. Desolate. Coated in thick layers of dust. Perhaps she had been wrong, and she had been the last person to step foot inside the cottage. Maybe-.

No, there they were. Lightly made shoe prints over the layer of dust on the floor. She followed the footprints down to the basement. The door into Valentine's small study was thrown open. Had she left it that way the last time? No, no said the footprints. Weapons were missing from the wall and tables.

Jonathan had been there. And recently. It seemed neither of them could resist a trip down memory lane.

The prints traced back over themselves up the stairs. Straight into what had once been their shared bedroom. The door was shut, locked. She drew an Opening rune next to the knob and pushed the door open.

Her nostrils burned immediately from a sour odor. She covered her nose with her arm and stepped into the room. Jonathan's bed was on the left, hers on the right. Both still made in pristine condition. A ritual they had complete in silence every morning. Get up, make the bed, report for breakfast, and then a day full of rigorous training.

Eliza was about to turn from the room when she saw it. The piece of paper on her bed. Familiar lines etched to form a picture she had stared at over and over again.

"No…" She murmured. The floorboards creaked under her as she walked through the room to her bed. Sure enough, it was the drawing. Clary's drawing of she and Jace in the park. Dark dots of dried blood still flecked the paper. Eliza picked it up and flipped over the sketch paper.

He had scratched over the phrase that Jace had written and replaced it with his own.

 _Come and get me, little sister._

She stuffed the paper in her back pocket. Somewhere in the house, a floorboard creaked. Was that…?

She readied her sword and crept from the bedroom. The sickening odor became overpowering. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and the skin on her arms prickled. The door to the basement was wide open, as she had left it. A light shined up.

She hadn't turned on any lights.

"Shit."

Something heavy slammed into her and she went flying into the wall. Her sword clattered to the floor. Head spinning, she blinked before looking up.

Blood-red gear. Two morning stars in hands. One of her brother's damn Endarkened.

He swung both the weapons, the spiked balls headed straight for her face. She pushed forward, sending her body towards him. She collided into his calves and he went stumbling back. In his stupor, she darted for her sword.

The fire had reached up the basement stairs and was taking over the frame of the door. Flames trickled over the wooden floor of the hall.

Jonathan had really gone overboard.

The Endarkened grunted loudly as he lunged for her. She jumped up on the kitchen table and slashed downward. He met the blow with one of the morning stars. The chain sparked against the edge of the blade. He swung with the other and she danced to the side.

Eliza jumped down behind the table, positioning herself between the table and the counter. She tossed her sword on the counter and braced herself. Pressing her back against the counter, she lifted her legs and kicked back against the table. The force sent it careening back and into the Dark Shadowhunter. She grabbed her sword and glanced back at the hall.

The flames were consuming the entire hall. Creeping their way into the living room. How were they burning so- _Gasoline_. That was the smell. The cottage was covered in a hazy cloud of dark smoke.

 _The flames aren't what will kill you. It's the smoke you need to worry about._

Eliza dashed for the door. She had to get out of there. Let the Endarkened burn.

His hand wrapped around her ankle and she was thrown backwards. He towered over her and reached down, picking her up by her throat.

"He has a message for you."

Her hands beat against his. Nails clawed into his skin. Her throat was burning, eyes watering. Lungs aching.

"Come alone." He continued. "He will beat you and you will have to stand and watch while he burns your world to the ground. Only then will he end your miserable existence."

The Endarkened tossed her back to the ground. He left his discarded weapons on the floor and headed for the door. She picked up both the morning stars and leveled them. A little too heavy for her, but they'd work.

"Hey!" She shouted at him. He turned. She took several steps to stand a few inches from him. "I've got a message for my brother." Before he could react, she pitched both her arms towards each other. The chains of the morning stars wrapped around his throat. She tightened her arms which tightened the chains. The spikes cut into the sides of his throat. "I don't like being threatened."

One quick snap of her arms and his head was no longer attached to his shoulders.

Eliza dropped the morning stars and relaxed her shoulders. She grabbed her sword and trudged from the house. Her eyes were blurry, vision hazed from the smoke. Her lungs felt heavy and uncooperative. By the time she made it a few feet away from the cottage, her legs were ready to give.

And give they did.

She collapsed to the ground, relishing the cool grass. Behind her, the cottage erupted in flames.

 _Magnus…I need…I…_


End file.
